


Kissing in the Pantry

by ctj



Category: Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, The Legend of Zelda, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, adventure will ensue, best friends getting into mischief, graphic depictions of dirty soup pots, teenagers with awkward crushes, there's a handsome OC if that convinces you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1747754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ctj/pseuds/ctj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...is strictly forbidden, especially when you're a 13-year-old kitchen boy, and she's the all-grown-up Princess of Hyrule. When you dream of slaying dragons and being knighted and wooing princesses, things like scrubbing out soup pots tend to get in the way. And best friends, too. Best friends tend to do that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You! Boy! Get back to work!"

The young boy was unresponsive to the sound of the head cook's voice. He'd been in a daze for a moment there, fingers wound loosely around the handle of a broom, blue eyes staring off into space.

Well, more or less.

The lovely Princess Zelda stood hardly a dozen feet away, engaged in conversation with one of the maids. Link, no more than a kitchen boy, had only caught sight of Her Highness once or twice during the month that he'd spent hard at work in Hyrule Castle. To be in such close proximity was certainly a treat- and not just because she was the fairest woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

Sure, she was ten years older than the thirteen-year-old. But what did that mean to a starry-eyed teenager?

"Oi! Did you hear me or not, boy?!"

Startled, Link dragged his gaze off of the princess and began sweeping the floor vigorously. His cheeks had gone slightly pink, and as he swept under the counter a mouse scampered out and he gasped.

"MOUSE!" he screeched, and the kitchen erupted into chaos. The cook abandoned his pots and jumped for the creature, skidding across the floor. Link went to attack the mouse with his broom, but it was to no avail- he knocked over a sack of flour instead, which landed on the tiles with a  _thud_. The mouse continued its escapade across the kitchen floor, scuttling underneath the princess' skirts and causing her to scream in terror, stumbling backwards and frightening the mouse away until he disappeared in a hole in the wall.

The princess was leaning against a countertop, her hand resting upon her chest as she tried to catch her breath. After a moment, she cleared her throat and laughed lightly, the color rising in her face.

Link was staring again.

"Boy!"

"Ah!" Link shouted with a jump. His broom was quick as lightning after that. The princess gave her apologies and departed, and Link watched her go until she'd disappeared up the staircase, her satin skirts trailing behind her, her golden hair shimmering in the waning light-

" _BOY_!"

Link got back to work.

* * *

Manny, a close friend, found the entire ordeal quite entertaining.

"Some charmer you are," the freckled boy joked from the top bunk. It was the dead of night, now, and the servants' quarters were quiet, but Link and his roommate were wide awake as ever.

"I didn't  _say_ anything-"

Manny hung upside-down over the bunk, his shaggy blond hair forming a curtain around his face. "You tried to save her from a mouse. That makes you half a hero."

Link threw a pillow, hoping that Manny might fall. He didn't.

"Go back to your stupid pencils," Link mumbled, and flopped over onto his mattress. He could feel Manny still staring, and it was bugging him.

"My pencils aren't stupid."

"Shut up, Manny."

"I'll be a great artist one day. You'll see. We'll get out of this kitchen, and I'll be the most famous artist of them all. And you can become a knight, like you always wanted to be."

"I said shut  _up,_ Manny!"

A pause. "If you say so." And Manny dragged himself back onto the top bunk, where he let out a melodramatic sigh.

Silence ensued. It was uncomfortable, and Link spent the better part of it peeling at a moonlit patch of wallpaper. A corner had come loose recently, and it was bugging him to no avail. He wished he could just rip all those stupid, faded printed peonies from the wall and toss them all into a trash bin. Then this room would look less like a servant's and more like a knight's, and pretending would be easier. A  _lot_ easier.

Maybe tonight he would dream about dragons. The best nighttime fantasies were the ones where he slew great, scaly beasts and was knighted in the Temple of Time. Someday, someday…

Just when he was beginning to drift off to sleep, Manny spoke up again.

"You don't think there are any mice in  _our_ room, are there?"

"Shut up, Manny, or I'll come up there and punch you in your stupid freckled face!"

That shut him up for sure.

* * *

Link awoke to a beautiful morning. The sun was shining as he'd never seen it before. It was infuriating.

"I hate beautiful weather," he bemoaned as he tied his apron behind his back. Beside him, Manny cast him a confused look.

"Why?"

"Makes me wish I was outside."

"We all wish that, boy," the cook sounded from behind him. He was slicing fruit as he spoke, and once he'd dumped it all into an ornate glass bowl, he shoved it in Link's direction. "Here. Find out where in hell Salvatore is and send this up with him. The king'll be throwing a fit by now, fat pig as he is…"

Link pretended not to have heard the words  _fat pig_ and went off in search of the first footman, who he eventually found sulking by the kitchen staircase with a sourpuss expression.

"Good morning, Salvatore," he greeted, which earned him no response. "Hey.  _Hey._ Salvatore."

The gaunt blond man raised an eyebrow. " _Whaaaat?"_

"Cook says to run this fruit platter up to the dining room."

"You tell the cook he can run this fruit platter up his buttocks," Salvatore replied deftly, but he took the fruit up the staircase anyway. Link did not deliver Salvatore's message, but instead returned to the cook's side to await further orders.

"The queen's picnicking with some ladies of Labrynna this morning," the head cook explained once Link had drawn near. He handed him a basket with a stack of steaming pastries inside, and upon Manny he bestowed a pitcher of iced tea. With a scowl, the cook surveyed the room.

"And where the  _hell_ is Niko?"

They all waited for some reply, but there was nothing. Finally, Manny sighed.

"We'll go get him. Come on, Link."

They set down their goods and instead padded down the hall into the servants' quarters. They found Niko's door firmly shut, and it took Manny three loud knocks and a kick to shove the thing open.

Niko was sound asleep in his bed, and Manny groaned.

"You-" kick- "great-" kick- " _OAF!"_

"I'm awake- I'm awake-" twenty-year-old Niko remarked, and scrambled to his feet. He was a roommate of Salvatore, and had the same thin frame, but Niko was more poorly-kept, with shadowy whiskers and shaggy hair that he did nothing about.

"What is it, lads?!" Niko asked, stumbling about and trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. "Is it dragons? Pirates? Assassins, is it assassins?!"

"It's  _breakfast_ ," Manny replied, and looped an apron around Niko's shoulders almost like a noose. "Let's move."

"But I need the bathroom," Niko moaned as they stumbled out into the hallway and drew nearer to the kitchen. Thankfully, he'd never bothered to change into a nightgown the night before, so he already had his shoes on.

"All right, Cook, we've got him," said Manny. The cook seemed irritated, and he thrust a basket of muffins into Niko's arms a little more forcefully than was probably necessary.

"Here. Don't eat any of them, as I know you're sometimes prone to doing."

Link and Manny took up their goods once more, and the delivery team set off. It was a bit of a trek to the gardens, and they all were thankful for a bit of fresh air.

"Nice day indeed," Manny remarked, but Niko didn't seem to agree.

"It's too bloody sunny," he complained.

"Oh, shut it."

"And the  _pollen!_ " Niko continued, and right on cue, he sneezed right into the muffins. Manny groaned.

" _Now_ look what you've done!" he cried, the iced tea splashing about as he lurched towards Niko in anger.

"You're spilling it! You're spilling it!" Niko replied, and that was it. The two descended into endless arguing in the middle of the courtyard.

A distant whinny distracted Link from the conversation, and he turned just in time to see a man crossing the courtyard on horseback. Behind him, a dozen men traveled on foot. They all were dressed from head to toe in steel, the gold and azure banner of the royal family streaming behind them. Link's breath caught in his throat for a moment, and his chest swelled with longing.

After a minute, the man on horseback came to a halt and removed his helm. He shook out his black hair and dismounted his steed, landing with the ringing of steel and turning to the stableboy, who had come to take the horse.

"Take good care of him, Abe," the knight requested, and the stableboy smiled.

"You know I will, Sir Nohansen!" he exclaimed with a smile, and led the red stallion across the stables.

"Sir Nohansen!" a musical voice sounded, and Link's heart thudded as Princess Zelda emerged from the front doors. She was dressed all in violet today, her golden curls dancing in the morning breeze. She lifted her skirts a few inches and rushed to the man's side. "You've returned!" she exclaimed in absolute glee, and the (Link hated to admit it) awfully handsome Sir Nohansen offered up a modest smile.

"Indeed I have, and in one piece!"

Zelda giggled. "Why, how  _wonderful_. Please, you must join us for breakfast, and tell us of your travels…" She took the knight's arm and began to lead him inside.

"Why, Link, you're positively green with envy," Manny piped up. He himself was beaming, which led Link to believe that Manny had won the argument with Niko.

"Envious? Me? Nah," Link said, and yet he couldn't stop staring. Manny sighed and puffed out his cheeks.

"That'll be you someday. All dressed in steel, riding the best horse in the stables, a princess on your arm… or maybe even  _that_ princess, eh?"

Link shrugged.

"Oh, come on, now. Don't look so sad. We've got to keep our heads up, because that's all we've got, really." He threw his free arm around Link's shoulders. "Come on, Link. Let's deliver these damn pastries, and then we'll be one step closer to greatness."


	2. Chapter 2

Perhaps the worst part of being a kitchen boy was the state of being an eternal resident of Downstairs.

Upstairs was different. Upstairs was the beautiful and luxurious world of the wealthy, where the royals stalked the halls in flowing silks and velvets, where they spilled champagne for fun, where they debated politics, and where they held balls.

Downstairs, the home of the servants, was hot and cramped and smelled like sweat more often than not.

All of this made Salvatore something of a scout. Being first footman gave him the exclusive pleasure of venturing up and down the stairs as easily and effortlessly as a frog slipping in and out of a pond.

Of course, this also meant that  _he_ was the one that got bombarded with all of the questions of two eager teenage boys.  _Constantly._

"Did you see Zelda? What's she wearing?" Manny asked when Salvatore came trudging down the stairs one afternoon. Salvatore sneered.

"What do  _you_ care?"

" _I_ don't care.  _Link_ does," Manny explained. Link ducked his head shyly, his long ears going pink.

Salvatore paused. "Right." And he stalked away irritably.

"But  _waaaaaait_ ," Manny groaned, hot on the tall, gaunt man's tail. "What's she  _doooing_? What's the  _king_ doing?"

Salvatore let out a long groan and pivoted around. "Princess Zelda is dressed all in blue and she's picnicking with Sir Nohansen. Now leave me alone!"

" _Where_ is she picnicking?!"

"In the gardens! The gardens! Now leave me be-  _ouch!_ " He'd turned around again, but the top of his forehead had smacked into a low-hanging doorway. Grumbling under his breath, Salvatore withdrew out of sight.

Manny whirled around, eyes bright. "Let's go, Link- let's go-"

"Go  _where_?" a voice cut in. The cook had overheard Manny, and now he peered suspiciously at the two young boys through a cloud of steam.

"On  _business_ ," Manny harrumphed. In truth, he and Link had uncovered a couple of slingshots from a serving girl and were going to pelt Sir Nohansen with the seeds.

"Well unless that  _business_ is unclogging Niko's sink, you might want to rethink your schedule."

Link and Manny's faces went blank.

"What do you mean,  _unclog-_  ow!" Manny moaned as Link elbowed him in the side.

Ten minutes later, Link was scraping sludge out of a pipe while a red-faced Manny scolded Niko for his insolence.

" _How could you get an entire two gallons of soggy vegetable soup stuck in there?!"_

Niko was scratching the back of his neck. "I might've forgotten to check that the trap was in-"

"You- you  _absolute goron-_ what were you  _thinking?!_ "

"He wasn't, I s'pose," Link mumbled, withdrawing a sloppy mess of mushed carrots and celery. It landed with a  _plop_ in the tin bucket near Link's feet.

"That," said Manny, "is disgusting."

"What would you know?" Link snapped. "I don't see  _you_ helping."

" _I,_ " Manny replied with his arms crossed, "am the overseer."

"Yeah? Then oversee  _this!"_ And with that, Link whirled around and smeared vegetable glop right across Manny's face. The freckled boy howled.

"YOU- CRUSTY- BACKSTABBING-  _MOBLIN-_ "

And he lunged towards Link and caught him in a headlock. The two boys collapsed to the floor, and Link saw stars as Manny punched him right in the eye. Groaning, Link retaliated with a kick to Manny's stomach, and then they flipped, the world shaking as Link pinned Manny down and delivered a blow to his jaw.

But then Manny's arm was around him and they flipped  _again_ , Link dizzy as could be, Manny taking control, winding up, ready to deliver a blow that Link was certain would mean his imminent death-

-and then Manny froze with his fist still in the air. His eyes went wide.

" _Don't. Move,"_ he commanded in half a whisper. All was silent… and then Link saw it out of the corner of his eye.

The same brown mouse that had wrought havoc in the kitchen mere days ago had ventured here once more. It seemed to have found something interesting- a green lump of moldy cheese- and it was so immersed in the task of nibbling that it seemed oblivious to the world around it.

" _Wait… for… it…_ " Manny whispered, getting to his knees and winding his arms about a wooden crate. He crept in the direction of the mouse, and Link could only watch, heart hammering…  _catch him catch him catch him catch him-_

" _And…_ NOW!" Manny screamed, and the crate came crashing down upon the rodent with a  _bang._

"GOT HIM!" Manny shouted in triumph just as Link let out a victorious, "YES!"

But then- of course- the mouse scampered out through an unforeseen hole in the crate and padded in terror across the kitchen floor.

"NO NO NO NO-" Manny whimpered, stumbling after the mouse. Link ran after him and gasped as Manny's foot caught on the crate and he tripped, and then Link tripped over  _Manny_ , and then, to make matters worse, the mouse disappeared into the hole in the wall, lumpy cheese and all.

Manny made a muffled noise.

"What's that, Manny?"

More muffled sounds.

"I think he wants you to get your bum off his face," Niko piped up from the other side of the kitchen.

" _Oh_ ," Link realized, and rolled to the side. Manny, finally freed, took a long breath of air.

"I said  _get off me_ ," he grumbled, and struggled to his knees. He stared blankly at the exact spot where the mouse had disappeared. "I can't believe it," he said quietly, and shuffled over to the hole in the wall. He got on his stomach and peered through the hole with one eye. "This means war," he whispered, and then flopped onto his back.

"What in  _Din's name_ is going  _on?!_ " the cook thundered. Link, Manny, and Niko all went wide-eyed.

"It was the mouse," Link explained, trying to remain calm. The cook was giving him a very condescending gaze over a somehow ominous-looking sack of flour.

" _Sure_ it was," the cook groaned. His face was beginning to go red. "Didn't I tell you to unclog that sink?!" he pressed. Link nodded hurriedly.

"It's- it's finished now, sir-"

"Save your  _sirs_ for the knights of Hyrule and get off your bloody arses!" the cook bellowed. Link and Manny stumbled to their feet with pink faces.

"Now," the cook continued, "take that bucket of  _whatever_ the devil was in that sink and feed it to the pigs in the sty." He half turned, then turned back, and added as an afterthought, "and then climb in with them, why don't you, since you insist on acting like a couple of swines."

…

"I  _just can't believe him!"_ Manny was whining about the cook. "Why, we oughtta dunk all his clothes in curdled milk one of these days and see whether he notices. I bet you he won't, Link, I  _bet-_  oh,  _no_ , not  _this_ again."

But Link had stopped short while they were dragging the heavy bucket of vegetable sludge to the barn. Reaching the barn had required the pair to first pass the entrance to the gardens, and through the gate, which was built into a white stone wall, Link could see Princess Zelda.

She was wearing blue, just as Salvatore had promised, and her thick golden hair had been braided around her head like a tiara. His heart pumping hard, Link practically hovered over to the gate and wrapped his hands around the iron bars. With a sigh, he leaned his face forward and drank in the sight of the sunlit princess.

She was alone with Sir Nohansen, who was laughing at something she had said. The dark-haired knight was resplendent in a white tunic ornamented by golden scrollwork. With a sigh that carried on the wind, Zelda plucked a fat red grape from the platter before her and held it up to Nohansen's lips. He ate the fruit from her fingers and then leaned forward to kiss her, a smile on his face…

A fire raged in Link's chest.

"Sickening," he mumbled, and turned away. His ears were red again, and he was angry, angrier than he remembered being for a long while.

"Oh, let me see," Manny harrumphed. He dropped the bucket of sludge and shouldered past Link, peering at the royal couple through the bars.

"They look like a couple of damn stupid pansies," Manny scoffed. "So what if they want to- oh- ew-"

"What?"

"Don't look, they're- oh  _my-"_

Link tried to push Manny out of the way but it was to no avail. Even if he was slight, Manny was a head taller and dragged Link away from the gate with ease. "You don't want to see that."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a mere child-"

" _You and I are the same age!"_

"-and we have work to do. Come along. To the pigsty we go. You carry the bucket, my arms are tired."

Link begrudgingly hoisted the bucket of vegetable mush from the ground. He'd only taken two steps when he stopped again.

"Manny, I've just come up with the most horrible idea."

Manny, who was five strides ahead of Link, glanced over his shoulder. "I like horrible ideas."

"Then come here." Link beckoned Manny over, and glancing again at the marble wall dividing them from the gardens, whispered, "Do you think there's any way we can get on top of that thing?"

Manny considered for a moment. "There's a vine just around the corner that crawls all up and down the side. Niko uses it sometimes to get in and out of the castle- you know how he likes to go out at night."

A smile crept across Link's face. "Let's go- shh-"

"Gods, you're devious this morning," Manny noted with a grin. They kept close to the wall as they snuck around the corner, and Link was the first to scale the vine once they'd found it. Manny followed close behind, and together they hauled the heavy bucket onto the top of the wall before heaving themselves up after it.

"All right, here we are," Manny said, panting. Up here, a parapet lined either side of the wall, allowing Link and Manny to be invisible from below provided that they remained on their hands and knees.

They crawled down the length of the wall and turned a corner. Princess Zelda was in an animated conversation, her melodic voice flitting up through the trees and drifting over the wall. It was becoming steadily louder as Link and Manny drew closer.

Finally, when Zelda and Nohansen were just below, Link stopped, leaned back against the wall, and eyed Manny.

"You're thinking what I'm thinking, right?" Link asked, his voice barely audible.

By now, Manny was beaming. "You know I am."

Link nodded slowly, and both boys curled their arms around the heavy bucket.

"One…" Link breathed, "two…  _three!_ "

And then they leaned over the parapet and emptied the contents of the bucket straight onto Sir Nohansen's head. The dense, mucky brown mush splattered all about, plastering Sir Nohansen's otherwise perfect hair to his scalp and drenching his pristine white tunic. Horrified, the knight launched to his feet and smeared the gunk out of his eyes, his head whipping this way and that as he tried to identify his assailant.

"Who goes there?!" he called, but Link and Manny had already ducked back into the shadow of the parapet, where they'd succumbed to a fit of giggles.

And so, apparently, had Princess Zelda. Tentatively, Link peered over the wall to spy.

Besides a small stain on the hem of her dress, Zelda had gone untouched by Link's surprise attack. Now she stood back and laughed at Nohansen, who had gone so far as to draw his sword.

"It appears that we have an impostor in our midst," she observed, and Link dropped out of sight once more before Zelda could know it was him. "Oh, put that blade away," Link heard her add, and he was glad that Nohansen had done something that Zelda found stupid. He wanted her to find Nohansen dumb, even if he really wasn't.

"Let's go," Manny whispered, dragging Link by the wrist. "Come  _on-_ we're gonna get caught, and then Cook will  _really_ blow his top!"

"But I want to see-"

"Is somebody there?" a voice sounded from around the corner. There were footsteps, and Link could tell that a guard was pacing the wall not too far away… his stomach dropped.

"Okay, fine," Link whispered, and he and Manny snuck back around the corner and down the vine. Once they'd hit the grass, they bolted, running until the scene of the crime was far behind them.

His lungs sore, Link stopped and leaned against a castle wall, panting. It was hot outside, and his mouth and throat were dry from running.

Manny had collapsed into the grass.

"That," the freckled boy said, "was fantastic."

"Yeah," Link agreed between breaths, "it really was."

"Let's get back to the kitchen."

"Right. Cook will be wondering where we-  _crap_ ," Manny said.

"What?"

Manny's eyes had gone wide.

"Manny,  _what?!_ "

" _The bucket_ ," Manny hissed. " _We left the bucket!"_

And it all came crashing down. A guard would find the bucket, return it to the cook, and that would be it, that would be the end… oh, it was all over now…

"We have to go back and get it," Link said with determination. "There's no other choice."

Manny bit his lip. "You're right. Damn."

They returned reluctantly to the garden wall, and Manny was the one to scale to the top ( _"I can't trust an amateur")_ while Link remained down below. He waited, waited… the suspense was terrible.

And then a whisper sounded from overhead. And time stopped.

"It's  _gone!"_ Manny wailed, and returned reluctantly to the ground. He didn't address Link directly, but rather shoved past him with his head down.

"We might as well write out a will, Cook's gonna punish us so bad. If I die, burn everything I ever drew. I don't want my mam finding that stuff."

Link tried to smirk, but found that he couldn't.  _We're never going to live this one down._

Manny walked at so fast a pace that he was soon far ahead of Link. Left alone, Link set off towards the castle entrance designated for servants and kitchen staff. He, too, was wondering what sort of punishment might be awaiting him when a voice stopped him.

_"Psst!"_

He glanced over his shoulder. There, looking slightly frazzled, was Princess Zelda herself. Link's face got hotter than it had ever been in history, and his ears went so red that he was surprised they didn't burn off.

"Y-y-your Highn-ness-"

She beckoned him over, and he obeyed, his stomach doing somersaults. Then she did the last thing that he'd have expected, and held out the empty tin bucket that Manny had been so worried about.

"You work in the kitchens, right? I think I've seen you there before."

Link's eyes were wide. Somehow, he managed to squeak out a, "Y-yes."

The beautiful woman smirked. "This bucket belongs to the cook, then. I found it atop the garden wall- strange place for a bucket, don't you think?"

"I- I s'pose-"

"I hate to trouble you, but perhaps you could return this bucket to its rightful owner?"

"Y-yes, I- of course, Your Highness. Yes. Of course." He took the bucket from her outstretched hands, but he was shaking so badly that he dropped it almost immediately. Somehow going even redder, he fumbled to pick it up from the ground and cradled it to his chest.

"Do enjoy your afternoon," Zelda implored. She was trying not to laugh, he just knew it.

"Yes- too, you- I mean you, too- do that- your afternoon- enjoy it-" And he was running.  _Don't look back don't look back she's laughing she's laughing-_

"Oh, and…"

Link halted and turned nervously. Zelda was giving him a knowing smile. "Your secret's safe with me," she promised, and winked.

Link's knees turned to jelly.

He ran.


	3. Chapter 3

On a Sunday afternoon in late spring, Link caught the mouse.

He wouldn't have done it if Princess Zelda hadn't been watching, but the fact of the matter was that she  _did_ happen to be watching, and whatever surge of determination had possessed Link in that moment resulted in what quite possibly was the best and worst afternoon of his whole young life.

He was restocking the pantry when it all began.

"Excuse me, but do you have a minute?"

Link jumped so violently at the sound of Princess Zelda's voice that half a dozen cartons of oatmeal went tumbling to the ground. Horridly crimson-faced, Link scooped them up with trembling arms and cradled them to his chest.

"Y-Your Highness," he stuttered, and collapsed into a bow. He couldn't dare to meet her eyes, though he knew that they were probably rather bemused in expression.

"I was just wondering whether you could fetch me a jar of honey? I made such an inquiry to the cook, and he directed me here."

"Right… honey, got it…" Link said, shoving the oatmeal cartons somewhat precariously back onto their shelf. He dragged a footstool over to a corner shelf and mounted it, still hyperaware of the fact that Princess Zelda was watching him intently, and somewhat lightheaded for it.

The honey was kept in glass jars along the top shelf and, once he was on his toes, reaching it wasn't a difficult feat. He extended a hand, his fingers brushing the glass of the heavy jar, and he pulled it off the shelf… to reveal a mouse caught in the act of thievery. The mouse paused. Stared. Squeaked.

"AH!" Link screamed, and fell backwards off of the stool. He landed with an  _oomph_  on his back; Zelda screeched in response, and the jar of honey rolled out of Link's grasp and beside Zelda's feet.

"What's wrong- are you hurt?!" Zelda fretted, and he could smell her fragrance as she kneeled beside him. Her hand was rushing towards his forehead, but he ducked out of the way just in time and stumbled once more to his feet.

"Mouse!" he cried, and at that moment the rodent came scurrying down from the shelf. Zelda shrieked outright and cowered from the minuscule beast, and Link, heart hammering, chased after it.

"The door! The door!" Zelda cried, for indeed the mouse was making a break for it. Link slammed the door just in time for the rodent to come to a screeching halt, and then, thinking fast, he grasped an empty basket from a shelf and let it come swooping down on the mouse like a bird of prey.

And then… they waited.

"Did you get it?" Zelda whispered.

A muffled squeak from underneath the basket was response enough, and Link grinned.

Sliding the basket's lid underneath it secured the trap, and when he lifted it into the air, the squeaking continued from inside. He kicked the footstool over to the pantry's only window, creaked it open with one hand, and then extended both of his arms into the open and released the lid on the basket. The mouse went tumbling into the grass, gave another terrified squeak, and then scampered across the open lawn, never to be seen again.

He slammed the window shut, and turned apologetically to Zelda.

"Sorry," he said, the color surging back to his face for the second time. "He's- er- been terrorizing the kitchen for days."

But Princess Zelda was  _beaming_.

"What's your name?" she asked suddenly.

"My name?" Link asked, and checked over his shoulder just to make sure that she was really talking to him. When he realized half a second later what a fool he was making of himself, he hastily added, "I'm Link."

" _Link_ ," she repeated, as if testing the sound of it. Then she grinned one of those sparkly-eyed, red-lipped grins, and laughed musically. "Thank you, Link. I'll be certain that your employer hears of your heroic deed."

"H- _heroic?"_ Link repeated. Zelda was advancing towards him just the slightest bit, and it was making him nervous.  _Again._

"Why of course!" she replied, and she was getting very,  _very_ close. He could smell her perfume again, could see the freckles on her nose, could feel her breath on his face- oh  _no-_

And for the third time that afternoon he went so scorchingly red in the face that he feared his skin might melt off, and the world wavered around him and it was so terribly warm- and she got  _closer-_

* * *

" _-_ And then she  _kissed_ you?! Just like  _that?!"_ Manny cried disbelievingly from the top bunk. His eyes had gone round as marbles, and his unhinged jaw looked rather likely to fall off.

"Only on the  _cheek_ ," Link argued from the bottom bunk, and touched his right cheekbone tenderly. "It didn't mean anything," he continued, but he couldn't convince himself of anything that would shoo the butterflies from the stomach.

" _Link_ ," Manny said forcefully, and flopped over the side of his bunk so that his shaggy hair hung about him like curtains. "If  _Princess Zelda_ called me a hero and then kissed  _me_ on the cheek, I would  _never wash my face again._ She is the  _crown princess of Hyrule._ She descends from a  _literal goddess on earth._ You-" and he pointed an accusing finger- "have been  _blessed_ by the  _goddesses_ , and this is a sign! A sign from the heavens."

The hour had grown late, and now the only light that permeated their shared room was the cold light of the moon.

"I wish you'd just go to bed, Manny," Link snapped suddenly, hoping that if he shut Manny up quickly enough, Manny wouldn't talk him into believing anything rash. Link could hear his friend let out one of his trademark sighs, and then the bed creaked as the boy flopped back onto his bunk.

That night, Link dreamed that he saved Princess Zelda from a dragon.

…

Link knew as soon as the next morning dawned that he shouldn't have uttered a peep of yesterday's adventure to Manny.

Because Manny, unfortunately, was a gossip.

"...Yeah, and then Link trapped the mouse with a  _basket_ \- like  _this- hyah!"_ Manny imitated the action as he assumed it to have appeared. In reality, Link was certain that his own actions the afternoon prior had been much more scattered and frantic, but he wasn't about to argue with Manny's valiant display.

"Did you kill it, Link?!" Niko asked eagerly as Salvatore eavesdropped grimly from across the kitchen.

"No, no! I just released the mouse outside," Link replied, slightly flustered by the admiration of his coworkers. Even the cook was listening in with mild interest.

"And Princess Zelda called him a hero!" Manny exclaimed. "And  _then_ what did she do? Tell 'em, Link!"

Link turned pink and suppressed a massive grin. "She-"

"SHE KISSED HIM! That's right, kissed him right  _there_ on the cheek," Manny cried, and poked Link in the wrong spot on the incorrect cheek, though Link made no point of correcting him. "And called him a hero," Manny repeated for the umpteenth time.

Niko clapped enthusiastically.

"So, there you have it. The mouse is gone, and you're all rid of the horrid creature," Manny said, and paused. "Until the next mouse comes in, I guess."

Link was beaming, but his moment of glory was cut short as Salvatore spoke up from the shadows near the staircase.

"If you want to be a  _real_ hero, you're gonna have to do something more than just evict a  _kitchen mouse_ ," the footman scoffed, and rolled his eyes.

"Well, Link's got to start somewhere, hasn't he, clod-pole?" Manny argued. "Tell him, Link."

Link shrugged. "Manny's right, probably." He was aware of the fact that he was behaving rather pretentiously at the moment, but never mind that. He'd make up for it later, when the cook humbled him with some demeaning task.

"Well, then," Salvatore deadpanned, "you come back to me when you've saved Her Highness from peril, and in the meantime, I'll ready a laurel." And then he plodded off to skulk somewhere.

Manny turned to face Link, a fiery gleam in his eye. "Don't you listen to him, Link; you're one step closer than you were yesterday, and that's all that matters!"

"Right!" Niko affirmed, and a smile spread across Link's face.

 _Maybe there's some truth to what they're saying_ , he thought, but figured after a beat that no such thing could possibly be true.

…

The morning gave way to afternoon, and after the rush that was lunch-time, Link and Manny found themselves with some time on their hands.

"Here," the cook said, burdening them each with a bucket of table scraps. "Take these up and feed them to the pig- the one in the sty, not on the throne- and enjoy a few minutes' leisure on your way back." The cook wasn't smiling, but he was frowning as violently as usual, which Link took as a good sign.

"It's because he's still pleased with you about the mouse," Manny theorized as they crossed the castle lawn. It was a beautiful afternoon, the sky drenched perfectly in blue but for a few feathery clouds.

They turned a corner.

"Oh,  _no_ ," said Manny, and Link's heart dropped.  _It's a repeat of several days ago._

Sir Nohansen and Zelda were together again, but this time they were practicing at archery.

"You must pardon me, Sir Nohansen; I know not the slightest thing about the sport," Zelda begged, and fiddled with an arrow as she spoke.

"Well, that's malarky," Manny mumbled outright. "I saw her shooting bulls-eyes just two weeks ago."

The kitchen boys ducked behind a hedge and watched closer.

"Not a thing, you say?" Sir Nohansen replied. "Well, perhaps I can show you. Here…" His hands closed over hers. "You nock your arrow… like so… and you must ensure that the colored feathers are arranged in this very specific way… you draw…"

As he spoke, he ran through the motions with Zelda. Their bodies were pressed close together, his arms framing hers, his jaw brushing against the golden hairs on Zelda's head.

"And then…" he said, "you release."

The arrow cut through the air and landed, perfectly centered, on the bullseye.

"Hold on while I go vomit somewhere," grumbled a disgusted Manny, and he disappeared from Link's side.

But something compelled Link to keep watching- something that had nothing to do with Zelda, nor with Nohansen, but instead with the sky beyond castle walls…

"Manny?" Link voiced over his shoulder. "Do you see that?"

"I wish I didn't," Manny snarked.

"No, not- not the princess- I mean… in the  _sky_."

Manny peered over Link's head. "What in the blazes…"

An agonizing screech shook the entire courtyard, and two seconds later, a hideous winged creature swooped into view. Zelda's shrill outcry of terror made Link's blood run cold.

The creature was indeed repulsive to behold, with a bald, pointed head like a vulture and scraggly, filthy feathers in jagged formation. It gave another threatening  _squawk_ before hurtling towards Zelda. At the last minute, the princess was pushed out of the way by Sir Nohansen. The massive bird skimmed over the grass before looping back into the air with another repellent cry.

Nohansen drew his sword with the ringing of steel, and sunlight glinted against the blade as he held high in his right hand and guarded Zelda with his left.

"Cowardly creature!" the knight cried as the bird disappeared over the castle wall. "Show yourself!"

The bird obliged by appearing far across the castle courtyard, and Link realized with a pang of dread that Nohansen's eyes were still fixed the spot where the bird had disappeared.  _He doesn't see it!_

And the bird was getting closer and closer, and it was going to get Zelda, and that was when Link knew what he needed to do.

He sprinted across the courtyard faster than he'd ever run in his life, and when he dove for Zelda's abandoned bow and quiver his stomach was caked in dirt. His hand closed around the bow, he nocked the arrow, closed one eye, aimed, shot-

_SQUAAAAAAAAAAWK!_

And the bird collapsed him in a flurry of grimy feathers and a cloud of dirt. Zelda gasped and turned around, pulling Nohansen with her.

"Gods above- Link?!" she gasped, recognizing him. It took her a minute to piece together exactly what she was looking at, and when everything fell into place, her eyes widened. "You… felled that awful creature?"

Link nodded, groaned, and stumbled to his feet. His clothes were covered in dirt. Cook would not be pleased.

"Yes, Your Highness," he said after a second. He was still panicking from the attack; so much so that he didn't even have time to be embarrassed.

Nohansen was pacing around the creature.

"This is a kargaroc," the knight identified, "but it is… odd, Your Highness, that one should stray so far north." His eyes were concerned when they met Zelda's. "These creatures… they do not often leave the tropical reaches of the south… I do not understand…" But then he shook his head. "I'm over-thinking this, of course," he laughed, and fell silent.

Zelda just stared between Nohansen and the bird, unblinking. "Well, I…"

"LINK!" Manny cried, dashing out from behind the hedge. He was white in the face. "You never told me you were handy with a bow! Who taught you, you great big- oh, right, hello there, Highness," Manny added, and gave a quick bow. Then he rapidly returned his attentions to Link. "Who taught you?!"

It took Link a second to come up with an answer. Finally: "My mother," he answered dumbly.

"Your- your mother-"

"She lives- we lived- in the country- before I came here, I mean," Link answered before turning back to Zelda. "Your Highness, I apologize, I- I mean, we- we were just passing through-"

"At ease, Link," Sir Nohansen implored. He sheathed his sword and scrutinized the young boy. "You have done us both a great service."

"Please, if there is any way that I can repay you, you must only say the word-" Zelda said, but Link cut her short.

"No, Your Highness, Sir Nohansen- I don't need anything- I mean, your gratitude is more than enough," Link promised, but Manny shut Link up by swatting him on the arm.

"Begging your pardon, Highness, but Link's a downright liar. I'm Manny, by the way, but never mind me; you see, Link's got this great big desire to become a knight, and as you can see, he's got all the skill and valor for it."

Zelda's face fell, and she turned an eye on Link. "Is this true?"

The kitchen boy hung his head in shame. "...It is."

Zelda frowned. "Regrettably, dear Link, you are of low birth. I can make no promises of knighthood to a commoner; you must understand that it grieves me to say so."

"I know, Your Highness. It's okay," Link swore, but he could feel his hopes crashing down around him already.

But that was when Sir Nohansen stepped forward.

"Perhaps Link is not meant for knighthood, but there is no reason why such a skillful young boy should be kept from learning the ways of the sword."

Link glanced at Nohansen in disbelief.  _He can't mean…_

"Link," the knight addressed, catching his eye; "it would be my honor to teach you at least basic swordplay during my stay in Hyrule Castle. That is… if you would accept me as your teacher."

Link shook his head rapidly. "I could never accept that, Sir Nohansen."

"Please," the knight argued, raising a gloved hand. "You have quite possibly saved our lives this afternoon; I owe you a debt. If you do not accept this, then we will have to find another way to repay you, won't we, Your Highness?"

"Indeed, Sir," Zelda agreed, a knowing smile on her face.

Link knew that he was probably shaking stupidly again, but he was still in utter shock.

"I don't have a sword," he said dumbly, and wondered why he kept arguing when he wanted this more than anything.

"I will supply you with a blade; there is no loss there."

"Nor a horse," Link continued, and Nohansen laughed.

"When the time comes, I will ensure that you are suitably equipped," the knight promised with a good-natured smile. "Well, then, what do you say? Do you accept?"

Link would have kept arguing if Manny hadn't nudged him then and there.

"Don't be stupid!" Manny urged. "Say, 'yes!'"

Link turned to Manny and pouted. "I'm not stupid!" he cried, and turned to Nohansen and Zelda. He took a deep breath, and then he grinned wildly. "Yes- yes,  _yes!"_


	4. Chapter 4

Initially, Link fully anticipated that his training sessions with Sir Nohansen would begin immediately.

How very wrong he was.

A week came and went without a word from the knight, and Link fell back into the mundane routine of scrub-out-this and sweep-away-that until he started wondering with a stab of self-depreciation whether he'd dreamed up the entire thing like the foolish, diehard dreamer he was.

Then: the letter.

It arrived in the form of a scroll, bound with a perfect blue ribbon.

"Who's that pretty thing for?" asked the housekeeper in passing through the kitchen. The castle messenger stood dumbly in the middle of the kitchen, rolling the scroll between his fingers and looking for its addressee.

"Some kid named… Link."

The housekeeper frowned. "Who?"

"Link's one of mine," the head cook piped in, having overheard. "A kitchen boy. I sent him to clear out the dining room."

" _No_ ," scoffed the housekeeper, peering at the scroll again. "Sweet little thing like  _that?_ It can't possibly be intended for a  _servant._ "

Link by now had overheard the entire conversation, and his heart was beating powerfully in his chest.

_For me for me for me_ _…_

"Oh, let me see that," the cook had interrupted in annoyance. He peered incredulously at the name, and glanced over at Link. "Boy."

_For me!_

He scampered over to the cluster of confused servants, and one of them dumped the little scroll into Link's hands.

"Can't imagine what this is possibly about," the cook said bitterly as Link unrolled the message. Its contents were as follows:

_To Young Master Link:_

_It would be my pleasure to meet with you this Monday at promptly five o_ _'_ _clock in the evening. I will be awaiting your arrival at the castle armory, where we will find a sword, shield, and mail befitting a young apprentice such as yourself. Such provisions are necessary before true training can begin._

_Yours truly,_ _  
_ _Sir Nohansen_

Link's hands were shaking with excitement. It was happening- truly, it was happening- and whatever envious feelings he harbored towards Nohansen began to melt into gratitude.

"Um… excuse me," he said to the cook, who glanced up with slight irritation.

"Hm?"

"I'm going to be needing Monday evening off."

"Monday- what in the blazes is  _that_ supposed to mean?!" the cook snapped. "You can't just go taking days off, Link; you know that!"

Link ducked his head. "I know that, and I- I'm sorry, it's just that-"

"Out with it, boy!"

Link proffered the scroll for the cook to behold. "It's Sir Nohansen. I'm to meet with him."

The cook's eyes widened. "Sir Nohansen? Well, I'm not one to near as parley with a Knight of Hylia," he said with a sigh. "Well, boy, I suppose I can spare you for the evening. Gods know I've given the night off to Niko more than the fool deserves, but that was only to get him out of my hair. You're actually worth something…"

Link was beaming.

"Ah, blast it all, I've said too much," the cook mumbled, and found the dirtiest dishrag he could seem to find. "I accidentally charred some fish and it's all crumbled to the base of the oven; see whether you can fit your scrawny carcass in there and scrape the basin clean."

But even the cruel command couldn't wipe the stupid grin from Link's face.

* * *

Monday evening came in the blink of an eye.

"Manny," Link said, rummaging through his- admittedly- bare dresser, "what would be appropriate to wear to sword training?"

Manny was quiet. Irritated, Link turned around. " _Manny._ _"_

"Yeah, that's good," Manny mumbled, hardly paying attention. Link glanced down at his dirty kitchen clothes.

"Manny! Are you even listening?"

"Hm?" Manny glanced up. "Oh, sorry, Link. I'm just thinking- I've met a girl, Link, and I want you to see her."

Link narrowed his eyes. "What?!"

"She's our age, Link. At least, I think so." Manny had been perched on the top bunk, and now he leaned over the railing to look Link in the eye. "She's a serving girl, Link, and the prettiest thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"You're right, Manny, I think I  _will_ wear my spare tunic, thank you," Link deadpanned, and withdrew a bundle of green rough-spun from the drawer. Manny continued to ramble on while Link changed clothes down below.

"She's got hair like you wouldn't believe, Link. It's the color of violets.  _Violets!_ Her eyes, too… I wonder if- oh, no- what if I'm only imagining her!"

By now, Link was smoothing out the wrinkles in the green tunic and fastening a leather belt around his waist. "I'm sure you're not imagining her," Link assured him, though he wouldn't care even if that wasn't the case.

"Well, after tonight's dinner rush, I'm gonna get some flowers from the castle gardens and bring them to her. Although- oh, no- I don't know where she lives-"

"Right," Link muttered, checking over his appearance in a dusty little looking glass. "You have fun with that."

And off he went.

* * *

Sir Nohansen was waiting for Link in the castle armory, as promised. Link entered shyly, his hands squeezed nervously at his sides. Sir Nohansen was standing beside another knight, and they were both deep in conversation with their backs to Link.

"...I did miss this place during my travels through the south, I'll admit," Nohansen was saying. "It was a… different world. The jungles were like nothing I've ever seen or read about in books… the foliage so thick that I had to slice through the vines to take a mere few steps… I'd have you know, Sir, I fell ill a good many times. It was the bugs, I think— they carried horrible illnesses in their minuscule bodies."

Afraid to interrupt, Link fell back into the doorway and awaited silence.

"Sir Nohansen… why?" the other knight finally asked in a hushed tone.

"Why what?"

"Why the effort… for naught?"

Nohansen seemed surprised. "I would hardly say that my troubles were for naught."

"Then what was your purpose?"

Nohansen's hands were on his hips. He shifted his weight and sighed, seemingly unsure of what his own answer should be. "If I told you the truth, Sir, I… would fear putting you at unease."  
"What?! Blast, you can't leave it at  _that!_ _"_ the other knight erupted, but Nohansen was shaking his head.

"I can, and I will— ah," he said, having turned around, "Master Link, there you are! And how finely dressed you appear; having excellent taste myself, I do say you look rather the part of a swordsman's apprentice. Of course… it is difficult to say such things when you have yet to bear a sword!"

Link's ears went pink. "I, um…"

"You must come with me; I've laid out some blades in the back room and I would very much like to see how you measure up."

Trotting after Nohansen to the designated location, Link was able to take a second to admire the armory itself. Swords, spears, axes and maces hung from the walls as easily as a hat from a peg, and a long line of shields bearing the great coats of Hyrule decorated the far wall. The Harkinian coat of arms was resplendent as always and took center-stage in the wall display; it bore the flashy golden insignia of the royal family against a blazing azure background, and shimmered perpetually, even now in the waning light.

The arms of the Nohansen household were immediately next to the royal family's, where the image of a white laurel shone like snow against a backdrop of gold. The brutal reminder of the Nohansen family's old ties to the Harkinian line was like a slap to the face.

 _These people, they are from a different world_ , Link reminded himself as they neared an open doorway. They passed beneath another coat of arms, this one sporting a series of blood-red eyes on an inky background that sent a shiver down Link's spine.

 _Which house could that be?_ he wondered, but did not ask.

"Here we are!" Nohansen said cheerfully, and Link emerged from his reverie to see a line of practice swords lain across a wooden table. They glittered in the amber light of evening, and Link imagined himself briefly at odds with an enemy— a dragon, perhaps— with one of those swords in his hand…

"Shall we take a look?" Nohansen suggested, and Link nodded, still eyeing the blades greedily.

"Yes, please, Sir."

So they did.

In the time that followed, they found a sword fitted to Link's size. It was the first time he'd ever held a sword, and when he first gripped it, he knew immediately how  _right_ it felt. A jolt of warmth rushed up his arm and caused his heart to beat faster, and he swung the blade experimentally. The balance felt perfect, and his breath shook.

_I_ _'_ _ve envisioned this moment for so long, now_ _…_

Nohansen was grinning. "Why, you're a natural! Give it a swing, why don't you?!"

Complying, Link did as Nohansen suggested— and accidentally decapitated a nearby suit of armor. Luckily, the suit was empty, although the helmet ricocheted off of the floor tile with rather an obnoxious  _C-CLANG!_

A slow clap from Nohansen. "Bravo, young warrior. He was no match for you!"

Link was red. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't be," Nohansen insisted. "Soon you will be doing it on purpose."

The thought was slightly nerve-wracking, but exhilarating all the same.

"Now, for a shield…"

They found in that hour a shield and mail for Link to use when they began sparring, and by the time that their meeting was over, both the knight and the kitchen boy were feeling very optimistic about the weeks to come.

"When, then, shall we meet again?" the knight asked at the door to the armory.

"I don't know," Link answered honestly. "It's just— I'm working, you know, all the time— it's hard to get the night off—"

"Leave that to me," Nohansen suggested, and pondered. "Perhaps our next session shall be in three days' time. We can meet at sunrise, before your work starts for the day. How does that sound?"

 _It sounds like a long day,_ Link thought honestly, but the concept of rising early to begin learning swordplay was not so haunting in the long run.

"It sounds… brilliant," he finally answered, and Nohansen grinned, extending a hand.

"Well, then, Master Link… let us shake on it!"

They shook on it, and the boy grinned for a long while after they had parted ways.

* * *

Link returned to the kitchen to greet chaos.

"BLAST IT ALL!" the cook cried, barreling out of a steam cloud with a red face. "WHERE THE BLOODY BLAZES IS SALVATORE?!"

Niko came shuffling out of the pantry with a wine bottle in each arm.

"Found 'em, Cook!"

"Well that would be  _dandy_ if we could find our blessed footman!" the cook snapped, and rounded on Manny, who was standing nearby with a bowl of sauce.

"I last saw him trudging outside, Cook," Manny admitted nervously. "Said he needed a break- took a cigar with him-"

"Drat," the cook said with a scowl. "Damn it all if he expects a  _phantom_ _'_ _s fart_ for a paycheck…"

"But if we can't find Salvatore, then who'll take the food up to the dining room?!" cried a startled Niko.

It was then that the cook noticed Link standing quietly in the corner. His eyes widened- Link realized what was coming- gulped.

"You'll have to do it," the cook said after a beat.

"What- no!" Link protested.

"It's  _got_ to be you, boy; you're the only one that hasn't got grease up to your elbows!"

"But it's improper- I thought-"

It was too late. Niko had dropped a bottle of red into one of Link's elbows; in his other arm, he cradled Manny's bowl of sauce. Before he knew it, Manny was propelling him towards the staircase.

"Give the wine to the butler! It's backup!" the cook called from close behind. "And the sauce goes to the roast cucco- damn it all-"

The cook's voice faded out as Link neared the top of the stairs. Nudging the door open with his toe, Link found himself in the corridor just outside the dining room.

He swallowed nervously, and glanced to Manny, who was still standing in the stairwell.

"Well? Go!" Manny snapped, and with a final gulp, Link pushed the dining room door open with his shoulder.

He'd only been in this room once or twice. It was moderate in size but gorgeously equipped with mahogany furniture, gilded candlesticks, and a silk tablecloth in a rich azure hue. On the ceiling, a mural depicted floating islands scattered amongst pink puffballs of clouds, and a massive oil painting on the opposite wall displayed Zelda I of Skyloft, her husband and five children in all of their jeweled glory. It was very overwhelming, and Link could feel those awful nerves bubbling within his stomach again.

"Could it be?" a voice boomed from far across the room. "It's our sauce at last!"

Link's face reddened, and his eyes fell apologetically- though he did not know why- on the king.

King Gustaf II Harkinian was middle-aged, red-faced, and shamelessly obese. He wore robes of cherry red- almost as red as his face- and the white curls of his hair and beard were outshone only by his crown: a dense and heavy ring of solid gold, bedecked with bulbous sapphires, rubies, emeralds and even diamonds.

But for all that he seemed to indulge in, he was not an unkind man.

"M-m-my apologies, Y-Your Majesty," Link stuttered, and sank to the carpet in a bow. "Our- our footman has- has taken ill, Sir." A little white lie; that would not hurt anyone. "I am- standing in for him- Sire."

When he glanced up, he could see a frown fluttering across Gustaf's wide face. "How unfortunate!" the king finally lamented. "Regardless, this is not the worst travesty to lay claim to our dining room, is it, Zelda?"

"No, Father," the princess agreed quietly. Next to her father, she seemed but a wisp of smoke, her hair twisted elegantly at the nape of her neck, her gown a midnight blue and laced with diamonds. Link allowed himself only a second's glance at her; after that, he forced himself to look away, because he could feel his heart twisting in his chest and it was  _not_ a good way to be feeling in public.

Remembering himself, Link took several steps towards the butler, who stood silently at the end of the room.

"The wine, Mr. Garrickson," Link whispered, and handed the bottle over. A separate voice spoke up over the exchange.

"Your Majesty," Sir Nohansen spoke up from his seat beside Princess Zelda, "Allow me to introduce tonight's quiet young footman. His name is Link; he is a kitchen worker, but he grew up in the country… Link is a very intelligent and capable young man. Perhaps it will interest you to know that I have taken him on as my apprentice."

Blushing again, Link set down the sauce bowl in the middle of the table.

Simultaneously, the fourth and final member of Gustaf's company- who had been stiff and silent hitherto- lurched forward and nearly spat out his wine.

"Is that so?" the old man sputtered, setting down his glass with a shaking hand.

"Yes, Minister Potho," Nohansen responded. He gave Link a supportive smile, but the boy responded by quickly flicking his eyes away.

"I think that's  _wonderful_ ," Zelda spoke up, which caused Link to grow only more flustered.

"Indeed it is… interesting," Gustaf responded; it was unusually quiet of him, and the seriousness in his tone tied Link's stomach in knots.

"Now  _Father_ ," Zelda warned, and Link's chest nearly erupted with the pressure of the butterflies residing there, "we must remember our courtesies."

It was all too much for poor Link. Desperate to remove himself from the scene, he pulled away from the dining table and scampered towards the door.

"Link!" Nohansen called after him. "Where are you off to?"

"I- soup- get to soup the need- need to soup the- get the soup-"

And he fled from the dining room as fast as his legs would carry him. When he bolted back into the kitchen, the cook's face lit up.

"There you are, boy! The dessert's just been finished; I'll be needing you to run it upstairs-"

"No way!" Link protested.

"What's wrong?" Niko asked overtop a pile of dirty soup pots.

"They were- they were being-"

"What is it?!" Manny cut in. He swiped a wooden spoon from a countertop. "Were they rude to you?! I'll show 'em!"

"No! No, they weren't  _rude!_ _"_

"Then what were they?!" the cook cried, demanding an answer.

"They were  _nice_ to me!" Link cried, and the entire kitchen staff caved into pandemonium.

" _Nice to you?!_ _"_ the cook cried as Manny bellowed "THE NERVE!" Niko dropped a soup pot with a resounding  _CLANG_ and somewhere in the heavens, Link suspected that the goddesses were emitting golden gasps of awe.

"Nice to me!" Link repeated. Manny dropped his spoon and put his hands on Link's shoulders.

"Are you going to be okay?!" he asked urgently, and held up a hand. "How many fingers am I holding up? Speak to me-  _give me a sign!_ _"_

The door leading outside creaked and Salvatore came tromping downstairs. He took in the madness before him with apparent apathy.

"What's wrong?" he recited lethargically. He paused, and then perked up. "Did someone die?" he asked suddenly, hopefully.

"SALVATORE!" the cook boomed, and dragged the footman downstairs by the collar. "You'd better have a ruddy good excuse!" He swiped the dessert from the kitchen counter and plopped it into Salvatore's arms. "Act happy and bring this up to the dining room  _pronto!_ _"_

"Act happy. Yeah."

"Pretend I just fired you!" the cook said as he urged Salvatore towards the staircase. It seemed to work. Smiling dreamily, Salvatore did as he was bid.

"I can't believe it," Manny said, still in awe. " _Nice_ to you. That's breaking a sacred code, Link. That's dismantling everything we know to be true about the relationship between servants and those we serve."

"It's true," the cook mumbled. He seemed to have calmed down considerably now that the last of the food had gone up. "Gustaf, that glutton…" He shook his head and turned away.

"I mean," Link continued, "I didn't think- didn't think they'd be  _rude_ to me, you know, they're always courteous, but… it was more than that. They…  _talked_ to me. Sir Nohansen praised me in front of the king."

Manny chewed on his lip ponderously. "I just don't get it," he sighed after a minute. "Upstairs and Downstairs… we're not supposed to interact like that. You'd never cross a boundary. What made them think they could cross theirs?"

"Maybe because Sir Nohansen's taken me on as an apprentice?" Link supplied hopefully.

Salvatore had reappeared downstairs with a grimace on his face.

"Salvatore!" Manny piped up, and the footman raised a lazy eyebrow.

" _Whaaat?_ _"_

"Have King Gustaf and his- uh- company- have they ever been  _nice_ to you when you were serving them?"

Salvatore smirked; his eye twitched; he burst into cruel laughter. "Oh, that's good," he said, wiping away a single tear. Then he disappeared into the shadows as lethargically as he had come.

"It's just," Manny said, and stared at the ground, "I thought royalty was supposed to be staunch, right, and we just quietly do our jobs and we're allowed to hate them as long as they pay us properly. Right?"

Link considered Manny's words. "Maybe… not? Maybe there doesn't have to be a boundary. Maybe they see us as people, because maybe…  _they_ _'_ _re_ … just people."

Manny might have responded, if at that moment, his eyes hadn't gone wide, his cheeks pink, his shoulders perking up.

"There she is!" he whispered. Link's brow furrowed.

"There  _who_ is?"

" _Herrr_ ," Manny hissed, and grasped Link's elbow to drag him up the staircase. They emerged in the upstairs corridor just in time to see a girl disappear around the corner.

 _"_ _Come on come on come on,_ _"_  Manny insisted, tipi-toeing down the hallway and peering around the corner. Silently, he pointed a finger at the girl, indicating that Link should observe.

He felt bad watching the girl from behind. Her hair was richly violet, as Manny had promised, and fell in a loose braid down her back. She was balancing a pot over her head, which Link had to admit took skill.

Her back wasn't turned for long. There was another entrance to the dining room in this corridor, and the doors squeaked open a minute later as meek heraldry of Princess Zelda's exit.

"Oh! Sue-Belle, dear, there you are," the princess said, and the serving girl turned, shifting the pot to her hip in the process.

"Good evening, Your Highness. I was just on my way to prepare your bath."

Sue-Belle was undoubtedly pretty, dark-eyed with a small mouth and chin. Link heard Manny emit a sigh, and he elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up.

"Why, that sounds marvelous,," Zelda said. "Anyway, I wonder whether I might have your counsel regarding a… personal matter."

"I… would be honored, Miss." She was shy in nature, Link noticed. He wondered why loud, brazen Manny had fallen for such a docile girl.

"Thank you, dear," Zelda said, and her voice faded as she and Sue-Belle vanished around the corner.

Manny turned to Link. "So?"

Link raised an eyebrow. "What? I get an opinion?"

"Isn't Sue-Belle lovely?"

Link thought about it. "I suppose." She had looked lovely enough on her own, but next to the princess, she had appeared as a dandelion beside a rose. Then again, Link thought, perhaps Manny preferred dandelions.

"She's Princess Zelda's chambermaid," Manny continued. "They're very good friends."

"Where are you going with this?" Link asked, afraid that this would somehow lead back to him. Manny gave him an odd look.

"I was only saying it because it's true; don't get any ideas. You know, I'm gonna go out and pick those flowers now- violets, like her hair- and then I'll find wheezy old Garrickson and ask him to-"

"Wheezy old  _who?_ _"_ a voice, rusty as nails, cut in from overhead. Link and Manny nearly jumped out of their skin before glancing up nervously.

"Oh- evening, Mr. Garrickson," Manny greeted with a gulp. "Fancy seeing you… here… exactly where you're supposed to be…"

"And why aren't  _you_ exactly where  _you_ _'_ _re_ supposed to be?" the butler replied. "Last I checked, you were kitchen boys."

"Are we?" Manny joked, his voice shaking.

Garrickson was unamused as usual. "Get back down there," he ordered, and gave both boys a good whack on the back. They stumbled back towards whence they came, and Garrickson, seemingly smug, went on his way.

"That old geezer," Manny complained, rubbing his own back. "Hasn't he got better things to do than hang around here? You know, I saw him in an argument with the postman the other day because he was sending unwanted love letters and the girl on the other end went white as a poe every time her mail got delivered- Link?"

But Link had walked no further than the dining room door, because the voices on the other side- however muffled- concerned  _him._

"...Can't be serious!" Minister Potho was spitting.

"Why not?" Nohansen returned, a spiteful edge to his voice.

"The boy is a  _country commoner_ ," the minister replied. "By taking him on as an apprentice, you're likely filling his head with all sorts of dreams!"

Nohansen's silence suggested that he was pondering Potho's words. "I do not think," he said after a minute, "that it is sinful to give a young man hope."

"Hope of  _what?_ Knighthood?!"

"Perhaps."

"He  _cannot_ become a knight, Sir! Your Majesty,  _please_ , tell this knight what we all know to be true!"

The king was quiet. "I cannot say for certain what is true," he replied, which gave Link hope, but enraged Potho.

"This is madness! You mean to raise a country boy to knighthood?!"

"I mean only to give him a choice!" Nohansen replied. "If that is his wish, then I shall provide him with the means."

"It doesn't  _matter_ what his wish is!" Potho insisted. "A commoner  _cannot_ and  _shall not_ be raised to knighthood. This is an indisputable fact, one that has been consistent throughout all of Hyrule's history."

"Minister Potho, you must understand, this boy is… different," Nohansen insisted.

"How so?"

"I- I cannot put it into words- but there must be some way… some way to make an exception."

"If we make an exception for him, then who's to stop us from making exceptions for every commoner with a sword and half a brain?!"

"Who  _is_ to stop us?!" Nohansen replied hotly.

"Sir!" Potho snapped. "You are a representative of one of the oldest houses in Hyrule. Someday you will be expected to relinquish your knightly duties and take your place as your father's heir, and when that happens, you must be no stranger to politics!"

"This isn't  _about_ politics!"  
"It most  _certainly_ is!"

Link heard silverware being thrown down and a chair scraping against the floor.

"Please excuse me, Your Majesty, Minister Potho. I've been worn out."

Ducking behind a statue just in time for Nohansen to emerge, Link noticed that the knight was red in the face and some of his hairs were astray.  _He_ _'_ _s very angry_. He'd never known Sir Nohansen to be provoked to anger before, and it frightened him slightly, partially because he'd been at the core of what had caused it. The knight stormed off and disappeared, and Link was left to ponder what he'd just overheard.

 _Nohansen really does want the best for me_ , he realized,  _but_ _…_ _perhaps he_ _'_ _s right._

A horrible feeling of dread landed in Link's stomach like a bomb.

_I have to talk to him!_

He scampered after Nohansen as quickly as he could, sliding around a corner just in time to see Nohansen open a door leading outside.

"Sir!" Link called. "Wait!"

Nohansen froze and turned, his eyes going wide. "Link?"

Catching his breath, Link approached the knight. "I… um…" As usual, he was at a loss for words.  _I did not think this through. At all._

"Link, I apologize… were you outside the dining room just now?"

Link's blush was answer enough for Nohansen.

"Then you know how the minister feels about our relationship," Nohansen concluded, and Link nodded guiltily.

"I'm sorry for eavesdropping, Sir, it's only that…" Link bit his lip.  _I_ _'_ _ll never forgive myself for this, but_ _…_ "I don't think I should be your apprentice, Sir."

Nohansen only stared, face drawn, lips pressed tightly together. He seemed to be groping for an answer that he couldn't find. Finally: "Link… why are you saying this?"

Link thought about it.  _Because I_ _'_ _m a commoner and you_ _'_ _re a knight. You_ _'_ _ll get in trouble for encouraging me any further, but because I_ _'_ _m the poor one, the punishment will fall on me!_

"I don't know," the boy lied, refusing to make eye contact all the while.

He was surprised when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Glancing up, he could see the sternness in Nohansen's countenance.

"I think I know why you're saying it," the knight finally admitted, "and I want you to know, Link, that no matter what the consequences, we  _shall not give up_. I owe you a debt. I made a promise to take you on as my apprentice, and I am a man of my word. When I was knighted, I made a vow of honesty; you'll find that I do not take those vows lightly."

"But… your vows, I mean… pardon me, Sir, but vows don't matter in the end if they can't change the rules."

Nohansen contemplated this. "…No," he finally agreed, "I cannot change the rules." He smiled. "But Zelda will be queen someday, and perhaps that will open a door or two."

Link blocked out the second half of Nohansen's implication.

_Zelda will be queen_ _…_ _and Nohansen will be king. That_ _'_ _s what will open doors._

"Link," Nohansen said again, his hand still on Link's shoulder, "I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

"Consider this your first vow of knighthood."

Link glanced over his shoulder nervously. When he returned his gaze to Nohansen, he realized that the knight was awaiting confirmation.

"O…kay…"

"Promise me," Nohansen said, his grip on Link's shoulder tightening, "that no matter what people say, or do, or  _think_ — you will  _not_ give up. On anything.  _Ever_. Because here's the thing about giving up:  _it_ _'_ _s not worth_ _it_ _._ _"_

Link was silent.

"Do I have your word?"

 _He_ _'_ _s asking me to commit to everything I ever dreamed about,_ Link realized.  _Knighthood, glory, freedom_ _…_ _Zelda_ _…_

Nobody had  _ever_ asked that of Link before.

After a long pause, the kitchen boy nodded. "You have my word."

And he meant it. Truly, in that moment, he meant it with all his heart.


	5. Chapter 5

A training session with Nohanson, when suddenly-

_Pain: (n)_

An awful, terrible, burning sort of thing, like all of the nerves of your body are splintering and twisting and breaking and there's  _nothing you can do to stop them._ Pain, the heart-racing, lungs-pumping,  _oh gods oh gods oh gods_ sensation that usually escapes your pathetic body in the form of a scream.

Pain, and Link  _did_ feel pain in that moment, watching the blood gush out of his leg and dry like a crust of plaster on his skin. He went white, and his thoughts became static, and the last thing he registered was the blur of Nohansen's face and a dark smudge where his hairline started…

Then he collapsed onto the grass with a shudder and a moan, and the world was gone.

…

He'd once received an injury when he was still living in the countryside, and his mother had scolded him for it.

"Link! I told you not to stumble too far into the forest! I  _warned_ you that there were Deku Babas in there! Why didn't you listen?!"

She'd said all this as she was tending to his wound: an unattractive gash in his forearm where the botanic beast had sunk its teeth.

"Sorry," he'd mumbled, bowing his head.

"Don't apologize to me," the woman snapped. "What's done is done." She was winding a bandage tightly around his limb as she spoke. "If anything, I'm grateful that you've finally learned. If I can't teach you the truth with words, then the truth will teach you itself, hm?"

Link's head was still bowed. After a moment, he felt her fingers brush against his chin and tilt his head upwards the slightest bit. He met his mother's eyes, and the magnitude of the compassion in her gaze only brought him further shame.

_You've finally learned_ , she'd said.  _Finally._ As if that would teach him to stay away from danger, like she'd always warned him to…

_What would she say,_ he had wondered in that moment,  _if I were to tell her that I want only to be a knight? That I want to fight monsters, that I_ want  _to be in danger?_

… _What if I told her… that the reason I went into those woods, the exact reason… was because she specifically told me to stay out of them?_

…

_"…wake up? He's got to wake up…"_

_"…soon… hush… patience, boy…"_

_"…but… NURSE! …just want him to wake up."_

The voices were like static in Link's ears, but slowly, they began to make sense. Consciousness— black and white and black and white, faster then slower— returned gradually but surely. Then, all at once, a surge of realization came to him—  _I remember what happened!—_ and he was able to open his eyes.

He'd been moved to the infirmary, a spacious, domed room. Quiet voices flitted through the air like butterflies, though they were slightly muffled by the white curtains that concealed him from everybody else. Though he knew the room well— he'd delivered trays of food to patients from time to time— he'd never been treated in it. He wondered whether somebody might deliver a tray of food to him. It was a strange thought.

A throbbing pain had started up in his leg again, and he glanced down warily, afraid of what he might see. To both his relief and dismay, a set of blankets had been drawn up over the injured limb.  _I hope it's not too bad…_

" _Nuuuuurse_ …"

That was Manny's voice!

"Enough of this, boy!" the nurse snapped. "Leave Link be, he's resting!"

Link cleared his throat. "I'm awake," he croaked. His throat was dry, and the words cracked halfway through. It was enough, though, to alert Manny to the fact that his best friend was, in fact, conscious.

The other boy ripped the white curtains open and barreled inside. "You're alive!" he cried, pale eyes wide. Manny seemed all out-of-sorts today, his shaggy hair astray, his cheeks pinker than usual.

"Yup."

"Sir Nohansen told us what happened," Manny explained. "He said that you were practicing sparring in the training yard, but you lost your footing and fell off a ledge."

"Yeah," Link muttered, all the while trying to glance over Manny's shoulder and perhaps catch sight of a nurse.  _I could really go for some water, and maybe, you know, an explanation of my injuries._

"And you would've been fine except you landed badly and rolled funny and I guess you fainted because of the blood."

Link reddened. "It's embarrassing," he admitted. A nurse passed by as he said it, and he raised a hand weakly to catch her attention.

"Heavens!" she exclaimed, having noticed him. "You  _are_ awake! I thought the boy was being a little brat," she said, and disappeared, only to reappear moments later with a glass of water in her hand. "Here. Drink."

Link did drink, and deeply at that. He felt slightly better afterwards, and even beckoned for a second glass. As he was downing that one, the nurse continued to speak.

"You're lucky, Master Link," she said. "Fall like that… well, you ought to have broken your leg."

"But I didn't?"

"No, you didn't, though I reckon you won't be walking for a few weeks yet."

Link bit his lip.  _Better than I could have hoped for, and yet…_

And yet there was a bitterness to it as well.  _If I can't walk, then I'll have to take several weeks off from training. What if I forget everything I've already learned?!_ The thought sent a shiver through him.  _One stupid mistake, and I've messed everything up for a month! I ought to just give up now…_

He'd been accustomed to that thought. Despite Nohansen's encouragement, Minister Potho was apparently on a continued campaign to talk Nohansen out of training Link in any way at all.

_Minister Potho would have me scrubbing out soup pots until the day I die_ , Link thought resentfully.

"Nurse?" a voice sounded from behind the white curtain, and Link's eyes widened.  _Nohansen?_

The nurse scurried out into the corridor. "Sir Nohansen!" she exclaimed. "Are you here to see your apprentice?"

"That I am," the knight answered. "Where is he?"

"Right this way, Sir…"

The nurse peeked her head in to Link. "Is it all right if—"

"Yes," Link answered all too rapidly. "Yes, of course."

Nohansen turned the corner and stood next to Manny at the foot of Link's bed. Side-by-side, the two looked ridiculous— Nohansen, tall and broad in the shoulders, with sweeping, styled hair and glistening chain mail; Manny, also tall but skinny as a rail, with that messy smattering of freckles and a dirty, ragged apron. Link could not pinpoint who looked more out-of-place.

"I…" Link started to say, but didn't know where to go with it. "I, uh…"

"How long?" the knight asked briskly.

"What, no  _'how are you?'"_ Manny cut in incredulously. Link sneered at Manny.  _Just don't_ , he warned silently.

"The nurse said I might not walk for a few weeks," Link answered honestly, and Nohansen writhed away.

_"Damn!"_ the knight exclaimed, catching Link by surprise. Nohansen turned back to his apprentice. "As soon as you are back on your feet, we return to sparring. If the minister should hear what's happened to you he'll shut down our training sessions in a heartbeat, and I won't have that."  
"How would he…"

"In whatever way he can, at this point," the knight complained, and paused. "But worry not," he added hastily. "It's only politics; you mustn't concern yourself with it."

Link loathed being excluded once again, but kept his mouth shut.  _Don't forget who's in charge, stupid,_ he told himself.

"Aren't you going to ask Link if he's  _okay?!"_ Manny finally piped up, and Nohansen raised an eyebrow.

"He looks quite alright to me."

"Yeah, but you're driving me  _nuts_ here. Um.  _Sir,"_ the freckled boy continued. His ears were red.

Nohansen half-turned towards Link. "My apprentice means to be trained in a manner befitting a squire. If he truly craves knighthood, then he will come to understand the hardships that lie on the road that is destined to lead him there."

Link bowed his head.  _He's right… it will be very difficult. But I'm willing to put up with that, honestly. Anything to get out of the kitchen…_

"Master Link… if you mean to be serious about your training, then you know that it will come with both pain and gain in unequal amounts."

"I know."

"You  _are_ serious about your training."

"Of course I am!" Link sputtered.

"Good," the knight continued briskly, "so am I." He bowed in close. "It is my every intention that a world of opportunity will be opened up to you; perhaps you are destined for knighthood and perhaps you are destined never to pick up a sword again. But I will give you the tools to decide; and a decision can be a powerful thing."

He stood and made to leave. "Heal quickly, Master Link. You grow older every day, but there is no promise of growing stronger."

And he vanished with a swirl of the white curtain.

Left to themselves, Manny and Link peered at one another.

"Well that was kind of harsh," the freckled one remarked, and then shook his head. "Whatever. Anyway, you heal up quick, Link, because Cook's making me do twice as much work while you're out. He's got his knickers all in a twist because he thinks you're the only one in the kitchen who's got their head screwed on properly, and I don't think that's fair, though it's probably true." He shrugged, and his shirt, two sizes too big, slid about on his bony shoulders.

…

Through the remainder of the afternoon, Link slipped in and out of sleep like a frog in a pond. Later, he was awoken by whispers on the other side of the curtain, and tuned in.

_"…not your responsibility…"_

…What?

He shifted his weight slightly. Night had fallen outside and the infirmary had gone dim, red torchlight cascading down the walls and casting long blue shadows in the places it could not reach. Here, in the hushed hall so blanketed by lethargy, Link's purest desire was to return to sleep… if only there were no voices to restrict him. He listened in again.

_"Not my responsibility? He is my brother!"_ a girl whispered.

_Hold on_ , Link realized.  _I've heard that voice before…_

_"Hush, child. Nobody is meant to know!"_ an old man croaked in response.  _"As it is, he is only half your brother…"_

_"He is more mine than anyone else's."_

_"This remains true, and yet… you must be wary of him. You have seen his eyes?"_

Hesitation.

_"…Yes."_

_"They are as your father's were."_

_"I know."_

_"If you are a fool, your brother will play you like a fiddle."_

_"I have no other option!"_ the girl protested.

_"…You could run."_

_"No,"_ she insisted, and her words, as muffled as they were, were forceful.  _"I will not leave you here alone, Grandfather. I will not leave you here to die—"_

_CRASH!_

Link shot up in terror, and his leg screamed in protest. At his bedside, a vial— knocked over thanks to his own lethargic clumsiness— lay on the floor in a puddle of shattered glass. He scowled at the sight.

_Stupid, stupid…_

The voices on the other side of the curtain had ceased.

_"Go,"_ the whisper finally sounded, and the pattering of delicate footsteps met Link's ears. A moment later, a figure hurried past so quickly that he should never have recognized her— if not, perhaps, for the long violet braid…

_Sue-Belle._

But what was that all about? Who was her brother, who was her father? And why was the relationship meant to be kept secret—

Oh.

_Sue-Belle is a serving girl_ , Link realized.  _Her half-brother is probably highborn, and her father, too._ His eyes widened. The girl had to have been born of scandal— but whose scandal? And why was the truth so dangerous?

Damn it all if Link was going to get a wink of sleep after  _that_.

He dwelled on the topic long into the night until the first light of day peeked through the windows; only then did he fall asleep, and it was a restless one at that.

…

He was visited later that morning by the last person in Hyrule he would ever have expected.

_"Salvatore?!"_ he remarked. "You've come to see me!"

"Don't get your hopes up," the footman droned, "I'm only in this  _disease chamber_ on delivery service. Here." He held out the flashiest wicker basket Link had ever seen. It was filled to the brim with chocolates, and the fat blue ribbon adorning the handle only added to the look.

"From…?" Link asked, taking the basket and gathering it onto his lap.

"Read the card. Assuming you  _can_ read, of course," the footman continued, and departed without another word.

_Nothing quite like serving another servant,_ Link figured, and then followed Salvatore's advice. A little card, attached to the basket of the handle, had been graced with loopy writing in gold ink.

_Link,_

_I was so sorry to receive word of your injury! Just think of it this way: you're one step closer to becoming like a true knight!_

_Please accept these chocolates as a get-well gift. I'm sure they'll make you feel much better!_

_Best regards,_

_Princess Zelda_

Princess Zelda?!  _What?!_

"Ooh, what's that?" a benign voice cut in, and Link knocked the basket to the floor with a  _thunk._

"Hm?" he replied, his face red-hot with embarrassment. Manny, back again, stood at the foot of his bed, laughing.

"Is that a  _gift?_ From  _Zeldaaaaa?"_

"It's— it's nothing!" Link cried, but Manny snatched the basket from where it had fallen and read the card silently. His eyes widened into marbles, and he snorted.

_"A TRUE KNIGHT!"_ he howled. "A get-well gift…  _they'll make you feel much better!_ Ah-ha ha ha ha ha! AH HA HA HA!"

"What's so funny?!" Link snapped, fully aware that every inch of his skin was aflame.

"Are you gonna eat them?!" Manny pressed, and Link narrowed his eyes.

"Of course not! I can't! Those chocolates are for  _royalty use only!"_

"And yet royalty used them… on  _you,"_ Manny jabbed Link in the chest with one grimy finger. Seemingly struck by a sudden epiphany, Manny fished a chocolate from the basket and unwrapped it from its paper packaging.

"Hey!" Link protested. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"If you won't eat it…"

"Then what?  _You_ will?!"

"Nooo… I'll  _make_ you!"

And Manny lunged forward, cramming the chocolate into Link's mouth.

"MMPH!" Link cried, shoving Manny away. He tucked the chocolate into his cheek and glared as best he could.

"Ha! You look like a squirrel that's just been told the last of the nuts are gone."

"Mmmphh…"

"Aw, come on, now. Pretend I'm Princess Zelda, why don't you?"

Link swallowed forcefully. "Why  _don't_ I?" he replied.  _"WHY DON'T I?!_ You bloody well know why I don't."

…

But that night, he did.

It was on accident, really, that he dreamt up a midsummer's day by a lakeside, the sunlight gushing through the floppy branches of a weeping willow and transforming the golden braids of Princess Zelda's hair into a halo.

"Accept these chocolates," she was saying, raising her slender fingers to his lips. His lips found the chocolate and it was as sweet as anything he'd ever tasted.

"Will they make me feel better?" he jested, but the princess was silent.

"No," she replied— and her eyes in that moment were azure and violet and gold all at once— "but  _this_ will."

Then she was kissing him, and  _that_ was sweeter than all the chocolate in the world…

…

And so a week passed, and then another. Link's leg patched up; the pain vanished. One day he was walking, the next, he was running. Finally, when he'd fully regained his strength, he returned diligently to his training, and the events that had come to pass in the hospital- Manny's antics and whispers behind curtains- fell to the back of his mind, and then out of his mind altogether.

He met with Nohansen more than he had before. What had been weekly or twice-weekly meetings turned into sparring matches that occurred four times a week, then five. Suddenly they were training with swords every day of the week, sometimes two or even three times a day.

This they did for weeks on end. Every swing of Link's sword was more powerful, more controlled, more meaningful than the one before it. His blade and shield became like an extension of himself; his chain mail was a second skin.

In their spare time they practiced archery, and Link engaged here and there in competitions with some of the squires that lived and worked in the castle. He nearly always won the archery contests, and before long, his skills with a blade were also a force to be reckoned with.

Weeks elapsed into a month and then two and even three months. In the midst of it all Link hit his fourteenth birthday— an occasion that he celebrated with yet another sparring victory— and when he returned, sweaty but victorious, to Sir Nohansen following the match, he was rewarded with a mug of ale.

"Cheers!" the knight exclaimed. Master and apprentice alike drank deeply.

A week after his birthday, Link came dashing out of the washroom to show Manny something.

"Look! Look at it!"

" _Gods_ …" Manny remarked in awe.

A spread of sand-colored fuzz dusted over Link's upper lip and chin, and Manny did a poor job of hiding his envy. Still, friends were friends, and no amount of jealousy could pry the two apart.

"We have to stick together," Manny would claim time and time again.

And yet Link was quickly becoming the sweetheart of the serving girls. He was becoming stronger every day, his scrawny servant's arms gradually being molded into the lean, powerful arms of a soldier. The baby fat on his face began to disappear, his voice plunged rapidly, and he shot up to such a height in such a short amount of time that not only was he taller than Manny but Princess Zelda as well, which felt better than anything he had initially anticipated.

Then there came an afternoon when he passed Princess Zelda in a corridor. He bowed and smiled— "Your Highness," he addressed— and when he chanced a look at her, he saw that  _her_ cheeks had gone the slightest shade of pink, and his heart nearly erupted in his chest.

Just when it seemed that things couldn't possibly get any better, he learned how to ride a horse. He picked up the skill effortlessly, and soon he was galloping around the stables as if he'd been doing it for years. He would sweep across castle grounds, his lungs bellowing with laughter, and steal maids from where they sat giggling beside the well. With their arms around him, he would break free of castle walls and escape into an open field, riding for miles until there was nothing but open sky for miles on end.

The training became more rigorous. Link worked up a sweat during his matches with Nohansen that left him too exhausted to move, and even then, he was given no choice.

"It hurts!" he exclaimed once when he felt he could fight no more.

The knight was strict. "Pain is the body's way of warding off weakness. You know this. Exhaustion moves the lungs; the lungs move the heart; the heart moves the mind; the mind moves the soul. It is a chain reaction- a reaction to pain- to strengthen the core you must first conquer the flesh... granted, it is no easy feat. To transform the very essence of your being... well, it is a task that very few have undertaken, and even fewer have come out of unscathed."

Then they stopped, and Nohansen cast Link a very odd look.

"You must understand how very... proud... I am, to have an apprentice such of yourself. You are young and of low birth, and yet your valor knows no bounds, does it?"

How Link had ever despised the knight, he never would understand. Sure, the princess preferred Nohansen over him. There was no denying it. She acted around Nohansen in a manner that set him apart from everyone else; yes, the princess was madly in love with the knight, and perhaps it stung, but there was a part of Link that knew— that had always known— what would eventually come to be.

It was in the thick of his fourteenth year that Link became convinced there was no force on Earth that could stop him. He was going to become a knight or nothing at all, and no law, no regime, no staunch old minister could get in his way.

And then came the evening of the King's Court Ball.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All royal balls begin and all royal balls end, but rarely with such

"It's not fair. It's just not fair. Does this seem fair to you? I don't think it's f—"

"Manny."

" _Link."_

They were standing on the outskirts of Hyrule Castle's ballroom, Manny tugging uncomfortably at the collar of the uniform he'd had to yank on an hour earlier. Before them, an ocean of flying silk skirts in all of the colors of the rainbow swirled about on the parquet floor. A waltz, courtesy of the chamber orchestra, filled the room from end to end, quieter only than the rhythmic falling of footsteps and the sailing of high-class chatter.

"It's  _not faaaair_ ," Manny complained yet again, and shifted the wine bottle he'd been holding from one arm to the other. "The  _other servants_ get to dance, but because we're on kitchen staff, we have to  _cater_ the damn event!"

"His Majesty's going to return from the washroom any minute, Manny, and when he does, you're gonna be sorry you ever said that."

Manny glared, and Link smiled smugly. Now that the two were of a height with one another, Manny could no longer sneer downward at him. It felt oddly empowering.

"Whatever," the freckled boy finally complained. "Give me ten minutes, then I'm gonna sneak off. Sue-Belle's wearing a red dress and damn it all if I don't get to kiss her for it."

"Right," Link remarked, and that was that.

The King's Court Ball was held only once every three years, and there was no other social event that gathered this many highborn families into the same place at the same time. Across each table was draped a banner with the insignia of the family for whom the table was reserved; in one corner Link could spot the symbol of the Windfall household— a white archway on a pale gray background. Nearby, the olive-green snake of House Castor bared its teeth. Across the room, the black swine of House Outset sat opposite the bowing blue tree of House Trilby.

_The King's Court, gathered together for the first time in three years,_ Link realized, and felt suddenly uncomfortable.  _I'm just a commoner, and a fool to think I have a chance at knighthood when there are people such as these in the world._

And yet he kept his head up best he could.

_Negativity will get me nowhere._

"…Of princesses if you ask me," Manny was rambling.

"Hm?"

"I said they're all a bunch of princesses!  _Vassals._ Bah!  _That_ man—" Manny gestured irritably— "is wearing more ruffles than Princess Zelda!"

"Where  _is_ Princess Zelda?" Link wondered in spite of himself. He'd been keeping an eye out for her all evening, but she was nowhere to be found. Neither, he noticed, was Sir Nohansen… Link hadn't the slightest clue what could be keeping them.

_The king is here. Why not his own daughter and her favorite suitor?_

A trumpet fanfare accompanied the opening of two double doors, and Link glanced up, expecting Princess Zelda, but it was only—

"His Majesty, returned from the royal latrines!" a spry voice proclaimed, and Link winced as Nohansen glanced irritably at the announcer.

_Was that entirely necessary?_ the king's expression seemed to say, but then he shook it off and returned, with as much dignity as possible, to his seat—a high-backed, rhinestone-encrusted throne with no fewer than six velvet cushions stacked upon it.

_To protect his Majesty's royal bottom_ , Manny had sneered. He seemed to have the wobbly, three-legged stools of the servants' quarters on his mind. Link couldn't blame Manny for his vexation; one would think that King Gustaf's bottom ought to be cushion enough.

"Mm… right then… more wine, please and thank you!" the king declared, and Link sprang to the king's side. The crimson liquid trickled from the bottle in Link's hands and sloshed around in the basin of his Majesty's goblet. Link could see the king's joyous, drooping eyes reflected on the wine's surface, slightly distorted by the ripples spreading outward from the center.

"Your Majesty, don't you think you've had rather enough wine?!" Minister Potho spat from his seat at the king's side. The monarch chuckled.

"Oh, Minister Potho, relax just for the night! The King's Court Ball only comes once every three years—why, if we don't make the most of this one, who's to say we'll even live to see the next!"

"I fret, Your Majesty, that if we are not  _prudent,_  we shall not live to see the end of tonight's!"

"No? Why ever not?" the king questioned, and chugged. If Potho's eyes twitched any harder at that, Link theorized, they'd very likely fall out.

" _Why ever not?!"_ the rather stubby minister cried, flaring up.  _"You are the monarch! Show some respons—"_

The same trumpet fanfare that had signified the king's arrival to the ballroom now echoed across the vicinity yet again, and the royal announcer's voice soothed the masses to silence.

"Her Royal Highness Princess Zelda, escorted by Sir Nohansen, of the Nohansen household!"

The doors were flung open, and there of course was Zelda—glamorous,  _brilliant_ Zelda, in a dress of pale pinks and violets, draped about her figure as petals swathe a flower. Her thick hair fell in ringlets between her pale shoulder blades, which had been left exposed where the fabric of the gown plunged towards her waist. She was the very picture of elegance, feline blue eyes absorbing the sight of her adoring crowd, rose-colored lips bent in a picture-perfect smile, dimples, shadowed by the faintest blush, sinking into the cream-white palette of her face.

Wherever she stepped, the translucent layers of her skirts fluttered behind, and it came almost as a surprise to Link that flowers did not spring up in her wake. She had seemed beautiful to him a thousand times before, but never of her own design; tonight, she shamed every other lady in the room, and Link felt his blood go hot with greed.

"You're not the  _only_  one who can't keep your eyes off her," Manny mumbled, and with a pang, Link noticed it was true. He'd been so focused on the princess that he'd hardly spared a glance for her escort, whose plain black tunic was accented only by a violet sash. Nohansen was entirely enthralled with the princess, and the expression on his face in observance of her bragged of utter astonishment, as if he were in such disbelief that this magnificent creature was his to love that he simply did not know what to do with himself.

"Honored guests," Zelda announced, "what a pleasure it is for us all to be gathered together once more, for the very first time in three years! I ask that you follow Sir Nohansen and me in the first dance of the evening—Maestro, when you will!"

At the fringe of the ballroom, the orchestra readied to play, and men and women hurried to find dancing partners. The princess and the knight fell into one another's arms in a practiced fashion, the king beckoned for more wine, Minister Potho harrumphed, and a deluge of violas introduced the first waltz.

"So, serving boy," Potho murmured, peering up at Link as he refilled Gustaf's goblet, "your training… it is going… well?"

Link could tell that Potho was sizing him up as he spoke, and he thrust his shoulders back just a hair and angled his chin upwards.

"Yes, Minister. It's going very well, thank you." He enunciated every word as clearly as possible.  _Don't want to prove his theory that I'm some sort of washed-up country bumpkin._

"Wonderful news," Potho retorted, followed by something that sounded mysteriously like  _hmph._ Link considered for a split-second calling him out on it, but an eruption from the king stopped him.

"You're spilling it! You're spilling it!" Gustaf panicked, and Link yanked the bottle to his chest as he noticed that wine had begun dribbling over the edge of the goblet.

"P-pardon me, Your Majesty!" Link exclaimed, and scrambled to sop up the remaining wine with a napkin that had been left out beside the king's cup.

Gustaf began to laugh. "No harm done, my boy! There are worse things to cry about than a little spilled wine!" He drank, and Link returned to Manny's side.

"Look at them all frolicking about," Manny grumbled. Flutes trilled in perfect unison, and a wave of colored skirts all billowed out at once as every lady on the dance floor twirled.

"I can't take another second of it," the freckled boy complained, glowering at the dancers in envy. "They think that dancing makes them— _oh, no_."

"What is—oh."

Across the floor, some fair-haired gentleman sporting the green garb of the Castor household was wooing a timid Sue-Belle into a dance. Manny hadn't lied— Zelda's chambermaid had dressed in a simple cherry-colored dress, matched in hue by the blush of shyness that adorned her cheeks. She turned down the noble's offer of a dance with something akin to modesty— _oh no, I couldn't—_ and Link's gut squirmed at the memory of the words he'd overheard in the infirmary all those months ago…

_There's a good chance she's half-highborn_ , he recalled.  _Royal galas should be in her nature…_

He'd forgotten about that overheard conversation soon after it had occurred, and the notion of telling Manny had never even crossed his mind.  _Should I let Manny know what Sue-Belle's likely wrapped up in?_

He turned to glance at Manny, as if the sight of his freckles and floppy hair might beckon an answer to mind, but he found only an empty space where his friend had been moments before.

"Manny?"

But the boy was gone, and Link glanced back at Sue-Belle seconds later to find her caught in Manny's presence. He seemed to be begging her for a dance, and this time, she agreed, biting her lip and smiling. He took her arm and led her tenderly out to the dance floor, where another dance had begun. She stood out among the other ladies in bright red, her violet hair fanning about when Manny spun her in place. There was a grin inscribed across her face.

_They don't look so bad together…_

"You there! Mr. Link!"

Link's face went white as he was very physically yanked out of his trance, and he found himself under the scrutiny of two sharp gray eyes.

"I am," he affirmed, investigating his visitor. She looked to be about his age, with angular, pointed features and a tall, skinny body smothered in layers of pink lace.

"Mila," she declared, whipping out a ruffled fan and batting her eyelashes behind it. "Of House Windfall."

Link blinked. "Can I help you?"

The girl rolled her eyes and tossed her head back, bright yellow ringlets tumbling about her face.

"The serving girls said you're a knight-in-training! Don't you know a thing about chivalry?! You're  _supposed_ to ask me to  _dance!"_

"I can't," Link answered bluntly, slightly irritated by Mila's considerably disrespectful behavior. "I've got to refill his Majesty's wine goblet, you see—"

"Oh, codswallop!" she countered. "You're a  _squire—_ "

"Actually, I'm a kitchen boy."

She sputtered out a few bouts of laughter. "Oh, enough of this hogwash, I don't like being fooled around with.  _You,_ a  _kitchen boy?!"_

He brandished the bottle of wine as if it might serve as proof of his humble origins. The young lady was not convinced.

"I simply shall not take 'no' for an answer," she claimed, a skinny hand finding Link's forearm. He tensed. "Let's away, young Sir—"

"MORE WINE, PLEASE!" King Gustaf bellowed from his throne. He was beginning to get quite red in the face, and Link worried that he might topple off of his throne any second now. "MORE WINE FOR THE KING!"

"Duty calls," Link remarked with as much apology as he could muster—which was admittedly very little—and he was back at Gustaf's side in a heartbeat, the disappointed Mila left to her own devices.

"Thank you, thank you very— _hic—_ very much, my boy!" Gustaf blubbered, and his face brightened suddenly. "Why, if it isn't my very good friend, Sir Nohansen!"

Link whirled about, and there was Nohansen, as promised. Sweat gleamed on his brow from the fervor of the last dance, and his smile was broad, his demeanor exuberant, and all of his body alight with life.

"What a time we're all having!" he exclaimed amidst his own laughter. His hand fell heavily on Link's shoulder, and the kitchen boy was met with a keen stare. "You ought to have danced with Lady Mila. Why did you turn her down?"

"My duty is here," Link answered, as if it were the most matter-of-fact thing in the world.  _And I did not care much for her._

"Hm," Nohansen said with a frown. "The knightly thing would have been to dance with her."

"But I'm— "

"A kitchen boy, yes, I know, but it would very well have made a statement. A minute of dancing could mean a lifetime of opportunity—you could have caught the eye of her father or mother, or some other noble... If you mean to assimilate into high society, then you must be willing to take every necessary step." He smirked. "Even if it means dancing with a lady whom you don't particularly adore."

Link nodded. "I understand," he said, but his mind begged to differ.  _Easy for you to say_ , he thought.  _You were born into nobility, raised on those principles, and probably never had to dance with an unpleasant girl in your life…_

"Grasp every opportunity," Nohansen reiterated. " _Every one._  You must  _crave_ attention from the nobility, even if it is not in your nature to do so." He bowed down close, a gleam in his eye. "Do you think I flaunt my family's banner merely for the sake of adoration, or because I long for the weight of a laurel upon my brow?"

"No," Link answered honestly. "I think you do it because you're expected to."

_"Exactly,"_ Nohansen affirmed, and drew away with a wink. "What you now call folly, you soon will call ritual. It is an art, moving up in the world… I think you will like it the more you come to know it." He turned to go—stopped—turned back.

"And always remember what I told you," the knight finished, the expression on his face complex and stern and reverent all at once. "A decision can be a powerful thing."

And then he disappeared onto the dance floor, and was lost among the swarm of moving bodies.

Link scanned the floor for Manny, but saw no sign of him.

_He's probably snuck off somewhere to snog Sue-Belle_ , he thought with some resentment.  _Just like him to abandon his post. Hmph._

The current dance ended, and another begun. The orchestra wailed out the beginning notes to something so furious and rapid in pace that Link feared the dancers could not possibly keep up.

How very wrong he was.

A hurricane of ball gowns scoured the floor, the gentlemen and ladies twirling and stepping, shuffling and sliding and dipping down low. The pitch of the violins plunged into a lower octave, and every girl on the floor spun in place, skirts billowing out and revealing their dainty feet, all encased in heels with little flowers, rhinestones, bows…

And then, without warning, the ladies' partners lifted them into the air, and they all gave little gasps and giggles of delight. Nohansen had raised Zelda far above any of the other ladies, and for a fraction of a second she seemed to soar miles above all the rest, arms so outstretched towards the sky that Link wondered why the goddesses themselves did not descend from the heavens and pluck Zelda like a rose…

And then they all were on their feet again, and the fury of the dance picked up, the  _crescendo_  of the violins and violas pillaging Link's ears as the instruments warred for attention. The dancers became a blur— _how did they not catch fire?_

In that moment, all was chaos. Link's heart quivered in his chest and he gripped Gustaf's wine bottle tightly, afraid that if something did not anchor him in place then he would be swept up into the tempest.

_This is chaos!_

And then, with the crash of a gong, it all ended. It was as if the world had stopped spinning.

The ladies fell against the gentlemen, each of them now in disarray, with wild hair and flushed cheeks, beads of sweat forming on their delicate faces. Gasping for air, the ladies withdrew their little lace fans and wove them frantically. Even Link, motionless as he had been, felt at a loss for breath.

_That was amazing._

Nohansen burst forth from the crowd, grinning the grin of the young and in love. Behind him, a bright-eyed Zelda stumbled, wringing his hand in her own. She seemed younger and more alive than Link had ever seen her, like a child so overcome with wonderment that no force on earth could bring her down.

"My dear, dear company! If I could have your attention please!" Nohansen called, and released Zelda's hand. He stepped upon the dais where Gustaf was seated and reached for the king's cup, who—having drank himself into something of a stupor—was all too happy to surrender it. Nohansen raised the cup toward the sky. "I would like to make a toast!"

The guests scrambled for their own goblets, and Nohansen proffered his to Link. "If you would do me the honor of filling this goblet, I should be very grateful."

Link suppressed a smirk at the over-dramatization of Nohansen's request, and did as the knight bid, letting the crimson liquid ascend to the brim of the cup. He could see the knight's jubilant smile reflected in the cup's surface in the split-second before he pulled the goblet away and held it by his heart.

"Before I begin," the knight said, a hush falling over the ballroom, "I would like to say a few words… a few words which perhaps you have been awaiting for some time now."

The knight flashed a smile in Zelda's direction, and Link could see her chest heave with a sudden, shaking breath. The kitchen boy's heart plunged into his stomach, and with a shiver that wracked his entire body, he realized he knew  _exactly_ what was coming.

"I am asked by many," the knight began, "'What is it like to love a princess?' And I reply to them, 'What is it like to love at all?' She could be a princess or a peasant, and I would love her just the same…"

Nohansen turned to Zelda, and there was such softness and wonder in his eyes that Link questioned how the knight held it all in. "I have traveled the world, and I have seen many marvelous things… white waves frothing and spilling like milk against the rocky shore… golden sands swirling in the wind's breath… jagged mountain ranges with mist seeping in and out of their crags… yes, I have seen the world in all of its glory, have seen it in sunlight and in starlight alike, and in all my days of exploring I always thought that those sweeping views were what most took my breath away… but I was wrong.

"The only wonder in all this world which ever has taken my breath away is Princess Zelda. She is the only desire of my heart… the subject of my dreams… she is my laughter, she is my smile, she is on my mind endlessly, in everything I do and see and think and say, she is present, from the moment I wake up to when I drift off to sleep, and when I awaken once more, again she is there…

"I thought I was as happy as I possibly could be, but she has bolstered that tenfold… she is in love with the world and I am in love with it through her. I see the light of the heavens when we lock eyes and I know that there is no place in this world I would rather be. So ask me again: What is it like to love a princess? Well, I cannot answer that. But I can tell you what it is like to love  _this_  princess… and it is like nothing the world has ever known."

His gaze, flooded with adoration, locked on her and did not waver.

"Zelda… I love you as I have never loved before and will never love again… let me see the world through your eyes, now and forever. Be my wife, I beg of you."

She was trembling, face white as a ghost, and then her cheeks flushed suddenly and her eyes filled with tears. They gushed forth like rainfall, tracing paths where they washed away the powder on her face, and her lips split into a smile that Link was  _absolutely certain_ contained some ethereal magic of its own.

The crowd held its breath.

" _Yes,"_ she whispered, the faintly-uttered word sinking into Link's chest like a ghost and chilling him to a core. The finality of it struck him— _this is it, she is gone forever—_ whatever prayer of wooing her that had ever existed, slight as it had been, was vaporized, and yet…

_She is so happy._

A sudden and unexpected warmth settled in Link's heart, and for the first time, he felt content upon seeing Zelda fall into Nohansen's arms.

_They truly are in love…_

Nohansen raised his goblet high into the sky with one arm, and held Zelda firmly against him with the other. He raised his voice, and it cracked—surely he was on the brink of tears, overcome with emotion just as the crowd was, all of them reduced to weeping at the sight of their beloved princess, finally engaged…

"…To luck! To joy! To love! To you and I, my dearest Zelda, as long as we both should live!"

Nohansen reeled the princess in—kissed her wholeheartedly, every last nerve seemingly aflame—and then raised the cup to his lips and drank deeply.

The audience exploded with shouting and applause, each ball guest so caught up in his or her own enthusiasm that not one of them noticed when, all of a sudden, Princess Zelda gave an awful shriek.

" _NOHANSEN!"_ she sobbed, and the knight collapsed to the ground in a heap. The crowd gasped, and Link felt the blood drain from his face, his legs quivering beneath him.

_What…?_

Minister Potho sprang out of his chair right as Zelda descended to her knees, one hand gripping Nohansen's chin, the other resting on his chest.

"Nohansen! Nohansen!"

_Silence…_

She bent over, golden hair spilling across the knight's torso, and for that small infinity, Link swore, you could have heard a pin drop…

And then she heaved her body upwards and emitted a terrible outcry that shattered the silence like glass.

" _HE'S NOT BREATHING! OH, GODS, HE'S NOT BREATHING!"_

The ballroom erupted into pandemonium. The crowd rushed forward and castle guards, stationed about the room, had to close in on the masses, spears aloft in warning. Zelda shook Nohansen's body, tears landing in great puddles on his face as she begged him to wake up…

But even Link knew, stumbling to her side and falling beside his mentor's lifeless form, that it was to no avail— _the knight was dead._ He could not comprehend a thing that was happening—what was this calamity? Could this be real? The world wavered around him, and it felt like some terrible, unfathomable dream…

"Who w-would d-d-do this?!" Zelda sobbed, her words broken, her voice splintered with pain.

That was when Minister Potho sprang suddenly out of his seat, and one stout little finger turned on Link.

"HIM!" the minister screeched, and Link's eyes widened.

" _Me?!"_

"You poured the wine into Sir Nohansen's cup!  _YOU POISONED HIM!_ "

Link's eyes widened, and he had hardly a second to react before Potho's voice rebounded about the room once more: "GUARDS! SEIZE HIM!  _SEIZE THE KITCHEN BOY!"_

Link sprang to his feet, but could not even begin to make a break for it before hands clutched around his collar and it tore at his throat, his trachea burning where his air supply was suddenly cut off. The wine bottle escaped from his arms and smashed against the floor, scarlet wine spilling at his feet like blood, and then he, too, lost his footing and slipped, crashing to the ground. The air left his lungs— the weight of a guard's foot was like an anvil on his chest—Zelda was screaming— Nohansen was dead—and Link…

…Link, the kitchen boy, in the middle of it all…

…The crowd closed in on him—the shock overwhelmed him—his breathing became shorter and shorter, his shouts of protest weaker, and then a faint feeling washed over him, and he submerged into darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

When Link awoke, mere seconds later, it was to screaming.

"YOU GREAT BUFFOONS!" someone shouted.

Groggily, Link sat up. He could still feel the leather-clad hands of the guards closed over his tense shoulders. Before him, the faces of Gustaf's court shimmered like smoke.

"You _blundering buffoons_ ," the voice repeated, and Manny— _of course it was Manny_ —ploughed to the center of the crowd, stumbling out from the wall of bodies and kneeling at Link's side. Link struggled to put his best friend into focus. Manny had two of everything—two heads, two noses, two sets of eyes…

_So many freckles…_

"Are you okay?" Manny uttered under his breath. Link paused, squinted his eyes shut, and waited until he was _absolutely sure_ he could speak without fainting before he answered.

"Fine," he finally lied. What he wanted to say was, _do I look bloody fine!?_

Still gripping Link's shoulder, Manny glared up at Minister Potho.

"Begging your pardon, Minister, but you _know_ Link didn't poison Sir Nohansen! The knight drank from the same bloody cup that Link's been refilling for King Gustaf all night, and look at His Majesty—he's _fine!"_

Sure enough, the king, although in something of a stupor and clearly not aware of what was happening around him, was very much alive.

_The poison was not in the wine…_

The minister was fuming. "If he did not do it, then—then _who?!"_ Link had never seen anybody look so remarkably baffled in his entire life, and that was saying something. The minister was white-faced with shock and looked ready to collapse.

"Don't ask me, Minister, I'm not a detective," Manny scoffed. "Just let my friend go."

It seemed the hardest thing in the world for Potho to obey. Regardless…

A sigh. "Guards. Release him."

The weight on Link's shoulders disappeared, and he took a great, shaking breath. Trembling, he collapsed against Manny, who assisted him in standing.

"Let's get you out of here," he suggested. "Quickly, before anyone tries to stop us."

"Manny," Link muttered between breaths. "I owe you…"

"Shut up, you stupid country bumpkin, you don't owe me anything, and I don't owe you anything. _Ever."_

"I. Um. Right."

Manny was dragging him out of the ballroom at this point, and he slammed the doors behind them, muffling the mayhem once and for all. Here, in the cool, quiet corridor, Link could feel his heart rate slowing down. They proceeded down the hallway, where only the crackling of torches disrupted that perfect silence, and Link felt he could breathe once more.

"Manny," he said emptily, "Sir Nohansen is d—"

"Shut up. For your own good, just shut up until we're downstairs. Try and breathe so that you can walk, because there is a zero-percent chance of me dragging your wilted little arse downstairs if your legs give out."

 _He's furious,_ Link realized, and forced his lips shut. _I just need to focus on my breathing…_

The world was less of a haze when they'd reached the refuge of the bedroom they shared. Manny slammed the creaky wooden door shut and bolted it before dumping Link on the bed. The sheets were cool, and even though the world was spinning, Link could feel his body beginning to relax. He realized with a pang that his muscles were still sore from the last time he'd sparred— _Nohansen…_

"Manny, Nohansen, he—"

"Shhh," Manny repeated, lighting the oil lamp. A warm glow settled in the room, casting phantom-like shadows across Manny's face. In the low light, the lines on his face were more pronounced. He looked stern…

 _This is not the Manny that I'm used to,_ Link thought nervously.

At first, Manny dragged a stool over to Link's bedside. He collapsed onto it rather forcefully, legs thrust to the side, elbows digging into his knees, shoulders heaving with each impatient breath. Then, after a few seconds of obvious discomfort, he sprang to his feet again, kicked the stool as if punishing it for serving no purpose, and resorted to pacing. Each footstep put Link's nerves on end once more, and sat up in the bed, unable to lie still any longer.

"Manny."

"Lie down!"

" _No,_ Manny!" Link snapped.

"You're ill."

"I'm fine. We need to talk."

" _I_ need to _think_ ," Manny countered.

"Then think out loud, damn it!" Link insisted. "We're fourteen years old! We're not a couple of kids anymore!"

" _Aren't_ we?!"

Link hesitated. "What do you mean?"

Manny was gritting his teeth.

"Nohansen is dead," he finally said.

"That's what _I've_ been trying to say!" Link exclaimed.

"No," Manny argued solemnly. "It's _not."_

"But…"

"What _you've_ been saying," Manny clarified, "is _boo-hoo, Nohansen is dead, my poor mentor, who could have killed him? He didn't deserve this!_ That's what you're saying."

"I resent that!" Link stated, rather abashed by Manny's mockery. "Nohansen was my friend."

"Nohansen was a _tool_ ," Manny replied.

"Don't call him names!"

" _That's not what I mean, Link._ Nohansen was a _literal tool_ —a means to an end. _Your_ end. He was going to get you out of here, Link. Now he's gone."

_Oh._

The silence that followed was almost painful. Link lay back down on the mattress and let the truth sink in.

_Nohansen was my one shot out of here. I will be a kitchen boy forever…_

"So now what?" he asked quietly. Manny was contemplative for a second, and then suddenly he whirled about and approached the dresser, tearing open the drawers and rummaging almost frantically through their depths.

"Manny— _what the hell are you doing?!"_

A scanty pile of clothes was already raising dust on the dresser's surface.

"I'm leaving."

"Okay."

The freckled boy glanced over his shoulder. "Link. I'm _actually_ leaving." His expression was somber. "I'm not coming back."

The words fell like a hammer, and Link could feel his world come crashing down.

"No," he muttered. "No, you can't leave—you can't just…"

_You can't just leave me here._

But Manny was already packing. "Come with me if you want."

"We can't _leave_ , Manny!" Link argued. "We can't leave when someone just killed Nohansen and Potho's pointing fingers and anybody could've done it and nobody knows who— _ow!"_ he cried, having shot into a sitting position only to smack his head on the underside of Manny's bunk.

The older boy whirled around and threw his pile of clothes onto the floor in agitation. "THEN DON'T LEAVE! STAY!" Manny bellowed. His skinny hands were clenched into fists. "Stay and solve the bloody mystery if that's what you want! And scrub out soup pots while you're at it, and sweep all the floors and take out the trash and set the table only to clean it all up again! And again! _And again!_ Put on your apron in the morning like it's not the saddest, grimiest, skimpiest little thing you've ever seen and have fun doing all of Niko and Salvatore's work for them, the useless bastards! Is that what you want, Link, because that's what you'll get if you stay! No more knight training! No more sparring! Just work, work, _work,_ kitchen work until you die!"

Link was struck silent.

"But Nohansen—"

"Is _dead_ , Link. He's a corpse. A memory."

"We have to find out who killed him."

"I don't want to be a goddess-damned detective, Link," Manny scorned. "I want to be an artist, and I'm done pretending that it'll ever happen if we stay here. If I'm gonna go then I have to go now, _right now_ , while everyone's distracted and there's no one to stand in my way." He pulled a ratty old satchel from where it was hanging on the bedpost and stuffed all of his clothes inside. Then Manny snatched his sketchbook and pencils from where he'd left them on his bunk and stuffed them in the sack as well. Drawing the string shut, he caught Link's eye. "Well?"

Link's heart was racing.

_I have to choose… the moment is now… should I go, or stay? If I go, I'll never find out who killed Nohansen. I'll never get closure with Zelda. Hell, I don't even know where I'll go. I barely have any money. But if I stay…_

_If I stay… then what?_

And Manny's words from before, echoing in his ears, were his answer.

_Kitchen work until I die…_

He was on his feet in a heartbeat. "I'm coming with you."

"Get your stuff, then."

He was rummaging through his own dresser drawers before he knew it, shoving everything he owned—which, granted, wasn't much—into a patchwork knapsack. As a last-minute thought, he stripped free of that night's servant's uniform and instead donned the green rough-spun he had worn to his first meeting with Nohansen. In those days, the tunic had been slightly large and baggy in all the wrong places. Now, he was really growing into it. He spoke as he dressed.

"We'll need to steal food from the kitchen. And weapons from the armory. My sword and shield are in there; I've got a key. And— and a horse, Manny, we'll need a horse…"

"Hold onto your armory key and give me your bag," Manny ordered in compliance with Link's plan. He ripped the tattered quilt from his bed and balled it up, shoving it in his bag with one hand while he motioned for Link to do the same. "I'll get food for both of us and meet you in the armory in twenty minutes."

"Less."

"Ten, then, or as soon as I can." There was a sudden rumbling of footsteps overhead, and Manny gulped. "This kitchen won't be empty forever. We've got to make moves, and quick. C'mon, let's get out of here." The freckled boy was out of the room in a flash, and Link was hot on his heels—though he paused once in the doorway and glanced back, eyes trailing across the room one last time. The beds were stripped clean, dressers empty—the room had always been modest, but now it was as sparse as he'd ever seen, the peonies on the wallpaper looking more faded than ever, the oil lamp's flame on the verge of flickering out.

"Leaving's not much of a sacrifice, really," Manny murmured behind Link, and with a grunt of concurrence Link slammed the door shut and the two boys made for the kitchen. It was unoccupied, though Link suspected that wouldn't last long. He knew he shouldn't be sad in leaving, and yet memories came trickling back here and there, of Niko and Salvatore and even the cook, the laughs they'd had…

"Maybe we'll come back someday," Link mused, but even he didn't believe it. He made his way toward the door leading outside.

"Meet you in a few minutes," Manny's voice sounded, muffled behind the pantry door. Right on cue, another memory assailed Link, this one more vicious and vivid than all the others, the image of Princess Zelda's lips flashing before his eyes…

 _She kissed me,_ Link remembered. _Right in that pantry, she kissed me on the cheek and called me a hero._ He gulped and turned away from the pantry without another word. _What will she think when she learns I've run away?_ he wondered as he creaked open the door leading into the outer courtyard and left the kitchen behind him. _Will she still think of me as a hero? Or will she just call me a coward for leaving?_

Inky clouds had begun to pool in the heavens, a delicate mist drizzling down and leaving a sheen of icy water on the grass to seep through Link's boots. He exhaled, a gust of warm air billowing out before him and hanging in the air for a split-second like a foggy orb. Then it shimmered into nonexistence, and a shiver took him. He still was thinking of Zelda.

_Will she even know I'm gone?_

This was the thought that consumed him from the moment he set out across the courtyard until he was faced with the heavy wooden doors of the armory, glistening with rainwater. He withdrew his key and jammed it into the keyhole, giving a grunt and throwing his whole body against the heavy wood. The massive door shuddered and then gave way, groaning on its hinges as Link forced it open and let the shadow of the empty building swallow him.

He shuffled through the dark rows of weaponry, letting the dampened moonlight sifting through the rafters serve as his guide. In the back room he located the sword and shield he'd been training with as of late. The sword had only been fashioned recently, a beautiful steel blade with a simple handle wrapped in layers of leather. Beside it, his shield—a large, round disc fashioned of oak—awaited use. He strapped them both across his back, and swiped a bow from the weapons rack as a last-minute addition to his inventory. It all was becoming quite bulky, and yet he grabbed one last blade—a light, simple sword meant for trainees—with Manny in mind.

 _Who knows what we'll encounter,_ he thought darkly, and made to leave the armory. En route toward the door, he remembered suddenly the spectrum of coats-of-arms adorning the back wall and pivoted to face them. A ray of moonlight had fallen across them, and Nohansen's snowy laurel seemed to stand out most of all against its brilliant golden backdrop. A lump formed in Link's throat, and he dropped instinctively to his knees, the impact sending a jolt up his spine. He bowed his head and let silence claim him, eyes falling shut. He saw Nohansen's image through the darkness—in one moment, standing proud—in another moment, kissing the princess—and then falling, falling to the floor, falling into the abyss of death—

"Link? What the hell are you—oh."

Manny had appeared in the doorway. Link's eyes flickered open at the sound of his best friend's voice, and he glanced over his shoulder.

"Sorry," Manny whispered, "it's just—"

"I know," Link said, emitting a grunt and getting to his feet. The weaponry on his back clattered as he stood, and he saw that both of the bags in Manny's arms were bulging with commodities from the kitchen.

"Let's get out of here."

They made toward the doorway and were nearly free of the place when Manny's hand clapped suddenly over Link's mouth and he dragged him into the shadows. A silhouette had appeared suddenly in the doorway.

_Who…?_

The figure appeared to be hooded, a cloak draped over his shoulders and dragging over the wooden floorboards. But he was small— _very_ small, actually, and lithe like a girl— _actually…_

"Wait a second,"Manny whispered, "that's…"

He stumbled forward suddenly, Link ducking out of the way.

"Sue!" Manny hissed. "Sue-Belle!"

The figure whipped her head around and her hood came fluttering down. Sure enough, long violet hair fell in torrents about her shoulders. She squinted through the darkness.

 _"Manny?!"_ she whispered incredulously. She was suddenly face-to-face with the freckled boy, his large, bony hands on her shoulders.

"What are you doing?!" he demanded. "It's not safe here, there's a killer in the castle!"

The girl drew her arms across her chest, fingers gripping her forearms. "I'm just following orders," she insisted, and yet even in the darkness, Link could not mistake the terror in the girl's doe-like eyes.

_Gods, she's ashen-faced… but why?_

"Well what the hell would Princess Zelda send you out _here_ for?!" Manny demanded, but the girl did not answer.

 _She never said they were Zelda's orders,_ Link thought privately, and something squirmed in his gut as he remembered a conversation in a hushed infirmary many months ago…

"Sue-Belle, I have news."

"You're leaving."

"Link and I are leaving—what—how did you know?! _Who told you?!_ …Oh," Manny mumbled, peering down at the lumpy satchels cradled in his arms.

 _He's nervous,_ Link realized, _and this time it's not because he's talking to a pretty girl. Oh gods. He's scared._

"Manny, we have to go," Link demanded, and stepped toward the door. When Manny didn't follow, he grabbed his friend's arm. "Come _on._ "

"Wait." Manny shrugged Link's hand off and moved in Sue-Belle's direction. The girl coiled away so violently, so instinctively, that it raised the hair on the back of Link's neck.

_I've never seen somebody look so tense._

"Come with us," Manny was saying all of a sudden, and the words made Link shiver. _No,_ he wanted to say. There was definitely something eerie afoot, and he didn't like it. He had a hunch that if this girl came with them, for some reason, ill luck would follow.

"Manny, we have to go," Link begged, and hoped that his voice wasn't shaking.

"I…" Sue-Belle began. It was no more than a murmur, and yet Link could hear the yearning in her tone.

"Please. Come on, Sue. Sue-Belle. Come _on._ " He tugged at her hand. "There's nothing here for you. The place is a wreck, look at it—we're off to do great things—become warriors—artists—"

"Manny, I really…"

"Yes?"

_"…Can't."_

The tall boy shifted his weight back and forth—tried to pull Sue-Belle along—she ripped her hand away.

"I have to stay. My place is here." Her voice was surprisingly flat. "Princess Zelda needs me."

"But…" Manny started, and faltered. His hand flicked forward, and then stopped in midair, hanging there as if on a string. When he let it fall, a sigh fell with it.

"I understand," he muttered, and Link turned away for fear of Manny catching sight of the relief flooding his countenance.

"Let's go, Link," the older boy beckoned, dragging his heels. They were in the doorway when a soft voice sounded behind them.

"Manny?"

He turned, wide eyes full of hope. "Sue-Belle?"

The girl looked small and defeated, but she mustered up half a smile anyway. "Thank you. For everything. I'll miss you."

The boy seemed crushed, and despite his wariness of the entire situation, Link's heart broke a bit for his friend.

"I'm gonna miss you too," Manny admitted emptily, and then he darted through the doorway as if a split-second longer might convince him to stay.

Manny didn't speak the entire way to the stables. It was only once they were inside that he uttered anything.

"She should've come."

"She would've just slowed us down, Manny," Link reasoned gently. He paced past the stalls quietly, stopping in front of one containing a lean gray mare. "Here she is," he whispered, and unbolted the stall door. He approached the mare gingerly and stroked her mane.

"Who's she?"

"I trained with her. Her name's Trilby, and she's mine, more or less. Come on, let's load up our things." They piled their belongings onto the mare's back and led her out into the rain, Link climbing on first and pulling Manny up behind him.

"Whoa— _whoa—_ " Manny stuttered, never having ridden horseback before. He wobbled back and forth for a moment, face going green. "Link, I, uh…"

"Just hold onto me," Link advised, gripping the reins and spurring Trilby forward. She set off gingerly, hooves sinking into the muddy ground with each step. Manny gasped at the motion and gripped Link's sides nervously, biting his lip.

"This is romantic," he said, but the joke was half-hearted and lost on Link anyway, who was pushing the horse into a trot. The rain was falling more heavily than before and Link's hair stuck to his forehead, the water trickling into his eyes and down the slope of his lashes and nose.

Lightning laced across the sky; seconds later, a crack of thunder shook the courtyard, and Link glanced back at the castle. Chaos raged within; he could tell by the flurry of movement through the windows. The sword on his back felt suddenly heavier, as if beckoning him to turn around.

 _The heroic thing to do would be to go back in there, to solve the mystery, to avenge Nohansen,_ he knew. He sensed movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced up at one of the tallest towers, where he suddenly caught sight of Princess Zelda standing on her balcony, her beautiful petal-pink gown now drenched as it whipped about her ankles in the storm. Did she even notice the rain, or had her senses been impaired by grief?

He would miss her, Link realized, and that magnificent flurry of butterflies in his stomach that took flight at the sound of her footsteps. The smell of her perfume, the swirl of her skirts, her infinite kindness, and that never-ending caving just to catch sight of her…

"Same here, buddy," Manny sighed, and Link knew that Sue-Belle was still on his friend's mind.

And then Link did as Manny had done and tore his eyes away from the girl he loved all too much, spurring the horse and bolting suddenly forward, through the courtyard, across the drawbridge and then—all of a sudden— _to_ _freedom._

They'd broken into Hyrule Field, but even with the castle behind them, there was no stopping. The pair ploughed forward, and Link's emotions quarreled for dominance. One part of him reveled in his escape; another grieved for his lost mentor; a third leapt with joy at the notion of greater adventures; a fourth urged him to turn around, to run to Zelda and fall at her feet. He wondered whether Manny felt the same, but over howling wind and stamping hooves it would be impossible to ask.

They rode on, minutes turning to hours and hours elapsing into a night. The rain stopped and they still pressed forward, even when the first rays of sunlight had crept over the horizon to dry the land. Morning unfurled before them, Hyrule Field as verdant as Link remembered from his childhood and spreading out in every direction. It was only when the sun was high in the sky that Link slowed Trilby to a halt, and he turned to rouse Manny, who had only just fallen asleep on his shoulder.

"Manny. _Pssst._ Wake up."

The older boy's eyes drifted open and he glanced at Link groggily. "Why'd you stop?"

"You fell asleep. I thought you might like to lie down—"

"Don't stop," Manny insisted. "We have to go until we can't go anymore."

Link blinked. "Where to, then?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Just go?" Link asked.

"Just go," hist best friend affirmed.

So they went without stopping, without stalling, without looking back—and certainly without noticing that even then, with the whole world in broad daylight and not a single hiding spot in sight, they were already being followed.

_END OF PART I_


	8. Chapter 8

**_5 Years Later_ **

Morning did not come gradually here.

Here, the sun catapulted above the horizon, unfurling its rays over jagged mountains that tore the fabric of the sky. The mist in the crags dissipated, leaving behind a sheen of condensation that made the slate in the cliff-sides shine like mirrors. Everything was more intense; the sunshine was hotter and the shadows deeper, the slopes steeper, the rivers more rapid, the sky bluer.

And it wasn't just these mountains. It was every mountain and every valley, every lake and every field, every forest, every tree, every branch, every leaf. Every aspect of life was more heated when you lived on the edge, and the stakes were always higher.

The morning light washed over the mountaintops, saturating the crevices below. A hawk swooped out of the quickly-shrinking shadows and soared through the sky, spotted feathers bearing stark contrast to the electric-blue sky. For one brief, heart-stopping moment, it rode a current of air, stoic and motionless but for the slight trembling of each feather…

And then it emitted an awful, soul-crushing shriek as an arrow pierced its heart and it shot like a bullet to the ground.

A young man had been hiding in the undergrowth when it happened. Now, he emerged soundlessly, the worn leather of his boots muffling his footsteps against the rocks. He let his bow sling across his back, where his long, white-blond hair had been tied in a loose ribbon. When he saw that there was no more need for silence, and that his prey had indeed fallen dead at the edge of the rocky bluff, he let out a long breath and relaxed his posture a bit. He advanced upon the fallen bird rather quickly after that, and in one swift motion, scooped it into a sack. Then he swung the bag onto his back and returned to the tree-line from which he'd come. Behind him, there was no evidence that the hawk had fallen at all…

Consider the following question: if a hawk falls in the forest, but there is nobody there to hear it, does it make a sound? And what if it only _appears_ that there is nobody there to hear it?

* * *

Some time later, the man stepped into a clearing in the forest. There had been a fire in the pit the night before, but it since had smoldered out. Now only ashes remained, fluttering about beneath blackened wood.

The man brushed off the slab of stone he'd used to cook the night before and repositioned it over the pit once he'd replaced the wood. Then, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being watched (which he was), he snapped his fingers and whispered an incantation. Seconds later, a modest fire sprang to life, red flames licking the stone balancing up above.

There. Phase one of breakfast was complete. He allowed himself one brief smile of congratulations, and then moved onto the next thing, retrieving that morning's catch from his satchel and preparing it to be cooked.

It was then that a lump of blankets shifted from across the clearing. There was a yawn, and a tall, lanky man with a spread of stubble that did nothing to hide his freckles said, "Ah... g'morning, Link." A lazy grin. "Happy birthday."

The young man at the fire glanced up, his feline blue eyes scrutinizing his friend. "Thanks, Manny. It is my birthday. I thought you'd forgotten."

"Why's that?"

"Because you slept in!" Link answered, slinging the now-empty satchel at his friend, who gave a shout and rolled over to dodge the attack.

"Well, damn! I'm sorry! You didn't tell me we'd be getting up at Din's first light of day! Besides, a little 'thank you' wouldn't hurt!"

Link raised an eyebrow. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," Manny replied smugly, but Link was still baffled.

"For...?"

"Your birthday gift! Although I'll admit, your attitude is giving me second thoughts."

Link snorted. "Fine then," he deadpanned. "I never asked for a gift in the first place."

"Anyway, here it is, since you just won't stop begging," Manny interjected, and reached into his own bag to retrieve the "gift." Link doubted it could be anything spectacular; he would've noticed if Manny'd had something bulky in his bag these past few days, which meant it had to be something small. He didn't even have time to consider what trifle Manny had managed to conceal from him before it was flung at his face.

"Here! Don't say I never did anything nice."

The gift had landed in Link's lap without so much as a sound. Lifting it up, he was skeptical.

"A hair ribbon?"

That was what it looked like, anyway. It was a long, thin ribbon the same shade of forest-green as Link's tunic. There were several insignias stitched crudely into its surface.

_Hand-made..._

"Not quite," Manny answered, the mock-spite gone from his tone. "It's a bandana, or a headband. Whatever you want to call it. You wear it across your forehead, and tie it in the back, so that long hair you refuse to cut won't get in your eyes anymore."

"And the insignias..."

He ran his finger over each of them. The royal family's crest was stitched ever so faintly to the left of the center, and just to the right was Nohansen's laurel. A space several inches wide separated the two. Even now, Link felt a familiar pang at the thought of Zelda and Nohansen, both gone from his life in one night alone.

"Zelda's represented on the left. Nohansen's on the right. Two noble houses that meant a lot to you- and you meant a lot to them."

"What about the blank spot?"

"For you," Manny answered quickly, almost embarrassedly. "Your house. When they knight you someday, they'll give you a sigil of your own. And you can sew it right there in the middle."

Link surprised himself by blinking back tears. "Manny... thank you." He secured the headband around his forehead, tying it in the back and letting the loose fabric fall with his hair. Something about it felt right. "How do I look?"

"Like a nineteen-year-old man that's letting our breakfast burn. Some ex-kitchen boy you are."

"Damn!" Link cursed. Manny hadn't lied- in the time he'd been distracted, the hawk had been burnt to a crisp. "Now what?!"

"I don't get why you tamper with these magic spells," Manny complained, dressing as he spoke. "Fire spells are hard to cast, the sketchy man two towns back told us that himself when he taught you the incantation. If you don't cast 'em just right, they'll burn your house down."

"If only we _had_ a house to burn down," Link cut in, staring at their ruined breakfast glumly. He knew that magic freaked Manny out. He'd assured him time and time again that he was only going so far as to use the household spells the Mage two towns back had taught him in exchange for a few rupees, but Manny found even the most innocent of charms suspicious all the same.

"You like eggs, right?" Manny was saying now. "I suppose we're gonna have to raid a cucco coop. Again."

"And get pecked to death like last time?" Link scoffed. "Please. I'm still recovering."

"Your scratches went away after a few weeks!" Manny insisted.

"Physical wounds heal," Link explained matter-of-factly. "Emotional wounds live on."

"Fine, then. Maybe we can look for another witch in the woods? One who'll brew us up a nice potion in her cauldron- a couple mushrooms, stir in some funky leaves and a spoonful of chu jelly-"

"And then try to throw us in her cauldron as well? _Like last time?!_ "

"Such a stick in the mud," Manny sighed, rolling up his blankets now and hoisting them onto his back. Link was beginning to pack up in a similar fashion.

"I prefer 'voice of reason,'" Link snapped, but the compromise was lost on his friend, who was unrolling a massive map on a long, flat slab of stone. Their conversation seeped away into silence, and Link peered over Manny's shoulder at the beautiful work of cartography.

For a second, he was lost in the detailed outlines of mountains and valleys, of rivers and lakes and rolling plains. The map was Manny's pride and joy, a work of artistic and navigational genius that the two young men had been creating for years now. They had spent five years exploring and surviving, running from camp to camp, town to town, weaving in and out of settlements but never staying in any one place for too long.

The names of the places they'd been littered the map in Manny's elegant handwriting. _Trilby Highlands. Windfall Manor. Mount Crenel. Castor Wilds._ And then, farther west, the places they'd gone once they left Hyrule- _The Wanderer's Woods. Fairy's Cove. The Biting Desert. The Sky-Scratchers._

The Sky-Scratchers- that was where they were now. They'd spent a matter of months exploring these jagged peaks, hunting for their meals and spending each night as close to the stars as they could possibly get on Earth. Even after five years, adventuring hadn't lost its novelty for Link. How could he miss the boiling heat of the kitchen, or the bitterly cold nights spent in a castle basement, when he now had the entire world at his disposal?

 _Those who named these mountains called them Sky-Scratchers because they admired them for reaching so high and pushing the limits of what anybody thought possible,_ he'd realized when they first were ascending towards the knife-sharp peaks. _Why should they think of me any differently?_

"So… where to?" Manny asked.

"Great question. Maybe we should-" Link's head perked up. "Did you hear that?"

Something was rustling behind the treeline, and the snapping of a twig rebounded off of the trees. A low rumbling started then, and a sort of grunting noise.

Link was on his feet immediately, taking a few cautious steps back, nocking an arrow and raising it towards the rumbling. He squinted his eyes, muscles tensing; after a moment, he could feel Manny's back pressing against his, two small knives hissing as they were pulled from their sheathes. It was a position they'd assumed a hundred times, accompanied by a fight-or-flight instinct that was as easy as breathing. Adrenaline tingled in Link's veins, and he zoned in on the spot in the undergrowth where the rumbling had only gotten louder, a kind of muffled thunder that seeped up from the earth straight into Link's blood and rushed behind his ears. His grip tightened, knuckles whitening- a figure burst from the forest- he drew-

"DON'T SHOOT!"

Manny's form froze against Link, and both young men stilled, though neither lowered their weapon. A stout man in a worn hat had stepped into view; behind him, a tired old mule dragged a dilapidated cart overloaded with floppy, wide-eyed fish, their scales glistening silver in the sun. Their smell, Link realized, was putrid, and yet…

"You're a fisherman?"

"Heading into town- please, I beg of you, don't rob me! I've hardly got a rupee left to my name!"

Link could hear Manny putting away his weapon; reluctantly, he did the same. _This man is no threat_ , he realized, and yet he always was on edge these days in one way or another.

Manny stepped forward. "Don't worry-we're not common thieves, though sometimes I wish I were; I reckon we'd be better off."

" _Manny,"_ Link scolded, and his friend smirked.

Even the traveling man had cracked something of a smile. "I am quite relieved. You never can be too certain of anything these days."

"You said you're traveling into town?" Manny cut in.

"My home is there; I traverse the path to the river and back thrice a week, and bring my catch with me."

"Where?" Manny asked, returning to his map, which still was sprawled on the ground where he'd left it. "We haven't got any towns marked nearby."

"Outset Village. Aptly named, too; it's at the summit of this very mountain."

"And it doesn't fall off?" Manny quipped, penciling the village onto the map as he spoke.

"Better to be set up away from the turmoil of the earth than embroiled in the middle of it," the man reckoned, and Link's grip on his bow tightened once more. The man's eyes widened. "Mercy- why such sudden unease?"

"You're very well-spoken," Link observed, his arrow tingling between his fingers. "Are you truly just a fisherman?"

"Nothing more or less! I do not tell lies; you will simply have to trust me."

The tension didn't disappear from Link's muscles. _This man is not telling the whole truth._ "So be it." He lowered his weapon once more.

"Suppose we go into town with you," Manny offered. "We haven't got any money, but if we help you with your delivery, are you willing to throw a couple of fish our way? We're starving."

Link glared. _Why would Manny admit to starvation?_ he wondered. _He could be taken advantage of for setting himself up like that._

"I welcome the help," the stocky man admitted, resting a hand gently on the mule. "If we leave now, we can be to the summit by afternoon."

"No time to waste, then!" Manny exclaimed, bundling the last of his belongings together and slinging them over his back. "Come on, let's go, up and at 'em, Outset Village awaits!"

Link drew close to Manny's side as he packed.

"You should be more careful, Manny. We don't know that we can trust this man."

"Stick in the mud," Manny recited.

" _Voice of reason,"_ Link reminded him, though he could not deny that his stomach growled as they took the first few steps towards the tree-line, the hatted man hiking at their heels. The old mule gave a snort and pressed forward, the cart shuddering and squealing as the wheels turned on their axles.

Behind them, the last of the crimson flames burned in the pit, lighting the way for those that followed.

* * *

They came upon the peak around high noon, when the sun was white-hot and shining from its zenith. Link's tunic was already soaked from sweat, and he was thankful to his new headband for keeping the perspiration from dripping into his eyes and sticking his hair to his face.

The town was perched upon a series of jagged terraces and set away from the rest of the mountain by a fissure that dropped into something of an abyss. A questionable rope bridge was the only entrance into town, where a simple wooden gate gave way to a sloping cluster of cobblestones and cottages. It was quaint, if a little on the ramshackle side, though Link could care less.

 _Finally,_ he thought, and drank in the sight of civilization for the first time in weeks.

"Halt, thief!" somebody cried, and Link glanced up just in time to catch sight of a twiggy man making a break for it across the bridge. Barreling behind him were two leather-clad soldiers, one of whom caught him halfway across the bridge and trapped him in his grasp; the thief slipped free like an eel, and brought his captor timbering down. The rickety bridge shook with the impact, and Link, having one foot on the bridge already, felt his stomach shake with nerves.

"STOP HIM!" the fallen soldier howled, and gave an outcry as his comrade tripped over him in clumsy pursuit.

Link's reflexes were quick, and he jumped in the way of the bridge right as the thief was about to pass. The thief, caught by surprise, attempted to dodge, but Link was too strong, and caught the running man around the shoulders. His grip tightened, muscles straining as the burglar attempted still to escape. When a long moment of struggling had passed and he still had gotten nowhere, the thief stilled, and twisted around to look Link in the eye.

"You're lucky that long hair of yours covers your ears, boy," he breathed darkly, each work reeking of ale. Link noticed suddenly the pointed ears of the thief, and the rounded ears of the soldiers moving towards them, and his eyes widened with realization which the thief confirmed. "They don't take kindly to Hyrulians here…"

The soldiers had caught up, and they ripped the thief from Link's arms without even a word of thanks.

"We'll take it from here," one of the guards snapped, and pinned the thief to the ground. "Search him!"

Link withdrew from the turmoil the first chance he got and found Manny, who had fallen to the sidelines of the chaos.

"Come on, and keep a low profile," Link whispered as they started to cross the bridge. They were a few paces behind the fisherman, who was leading the reluctant donkey across the shaky platform.

"Why?"

"That man said outsiders aren't welcome here. And by outsiders, I mean Hyrulians."

Manny reached up and felt his own ears instinctively, tenderly. Then, wordlessly, he brushed his shaggy hair over their tips so that they were well-concealed.

"Why do you suppose?" he finally asked, his voice still barely above a whisper.

"Can't say," Link answered honestly, "and I'd rather not have to find out."

The bridge now behind them, the small company passed finally into the center of town. Here, life moved full-throttle. Little stalls were set up all across the square, one selling ripe vegetables, another boasting raw meat, both of them stinking in the hot sun. A third stall sold various commodities- lanterns and silverware, hats of various shapes and sizes, an assortment of oddly-patterned flutes; an eclectic assortment, to say the least. A group of women stood gossiping at the well in the center of town, and others shouted to each other from open windows as they hung out the laundry to dry. A group of men were hard at work putting a new roof on a nearby house, shirtless and dark of skin from days at work in the hot sun.

"FISH HERE!" their guide into town began shouting. "COME GET FISH, FRESH CATCH OF THE DAY! TWO GOLD COINS APIECE!" The fisherman turned to Link and Manny, and as he spoke, he filled two large sacks with several pounds of fish each. "Could each of you make a delivery? You," he said to Link, "bring these to the village elder- his name is Orca, and he lives at the height of the village, on the highest part of the peak. Fair warning: he's slightly senile. And you," he said, turning to Manny. "This sack is for the prisoners."

"What?!" Manny retaliated. "Oh, _sure_ , Link gets the village elder, and I get a bunch of criminals!"

"Well, just one criminal, really, and he'll bring it to the rest; his name's Tingle."

"Tingle? And how am I supposed to find him?"

"Take my word for it, lad," the fisherman said, dumping the entire sack into Manny's waiting arms. "Tingle will find _you_."

And the two young men were sent their separate ways.

* * *

Link found the village elder's hut exactly where the fisherman had indicated he would, and it was with some reluctance that he even dared to enter. A series of muffled bangs sounded from inside, and Link's hand hovered over the door for a moment; would they even hear him knocking with all that rumpus going on inside?

...Right, then. Another moment of deliberation passed, heralded by a series of further bangs, and then, figuring he might as well, he turned the door handle and stepped inside.

He nearly suffocated.

The heat in here was unforgivable, the air so humid, so heavy and utterly, unbelievably _boiling_ that he nearly collapsed where he stood. The room was vast, circular, and windowless, torches lining the walls and keeping the room dim. A single ray of light pierced the center of the roof through a small hole, shining like a spotlight on the floor down below, where Link was finally able to identify the source of the banging. Excitement jolted his body.

_A sparring ring!_

"Hyah!" a fighter cried. He had to be in his early thirties ( _Nohansen would have been his age_ , Link realized with a stab of pain), and sported long white-blond hair that fanned about his clean-shaven face as he spun. As a fighter, his opponent- a thin-shouldered, bearded young man who was absolutely dripping with sweat- had no chance. The blond man was tall and lithe, sharp-featured and steely of gaze, and was seemingly unaffected by the sauna-like atmosphere of the room. Noiselessly this time, he lunged- _was_ it a lunge? It seemed more like a dance- towards his opponent and knocked the blade clean from his hand. With a shout, the bearded man fell to his knees, and the blond man's blade rested at his throat. Its edges glimmered in the beam of sunlight, and both sparrers cast long shadows across the floor.

"I forfeit…" the losing man panted from his knees. He bowed over, palms against the floor, arms shaking like the pudding desserts that Link had once prepared for the royal family.

A slow clap echoed from above the sparring ring, and Link glanced up to a high platform, set back into the shadows, where the oldest man he'd ever seen was applauding the triumphant swordsman with bony brown hands. A long white beard draped down past his sandaled feet, similarly brown, similarly bony, and his eyes sank far back into his face. Old, old.

 _Is there anything that eyes like that_ haven't _seen?_

"Well done, Swiftblade," the old man croaked. "There are few who have ever bested you, and none who can do it now."

Swiftblade sank into a low bow. "Thank you, Master Orca."

It was only then that the old man noticed Link's presence.

"Greetings, boy. What is it you bring?"

"What?" Link mumbled, having lost himself for a moment. "...Oh! Fish, Master Orca. Your delivery of fish, from the town fisherman." He stepped up to the platform, his nerves building up under the weight of the old man's eyes. He could feel the heat of Swiftblade's gaze on him as well, cutting sharply into his back like a razor.

"You may leave it there; my apprentice will take care of it. Mesa," he directed, and the bearded man scrambled to the elder's feet, relieving Link of the sack of fish and dragging it away to another room. "Payment for your services," the elder went on, tossing a small coin-purse. Link bowed and made to leave; he was nearly to the door, when...

"Wait!" Swiftblade called out. Link paused. "Is that a sword I see upon your back?"

The weight of the sword Nohansen had once crafted for Link felt suddenly very heavy against his shoulders, and he imagined that the pommel, shining in the ray of sunlight, must have caught Swiftblade's eye when he'd had his back to him.

"Yes," Link said after a minute, a certain eagerness stirring up within him. The apprehension that came from being in the presence of master swordsmen for the first time in years was almost overwhelming. "Why?"

Swiftblade drew his sword from where it rested at his hip. He brandished it as if it were weightless. "Put everything aside; face me."

Link didn't need to be told twice. His face lit up, and he dropped the bulk of his belongings by the door. _Any other delivery can wait._ He drew his blade and entered into the ring, relishing again in the perfect balance of the sword in his hand. _I've missed this feeling,_ he thought as Swiftblade faced him. They held their swords out, waiting…

"I always like a good sparring match," the elder said happily. "Now… _fight!"_

The words seemed barely to have escaped Orca's mouth before Swiftblade was sailing through the air, and it took everything in Link's power to deflect the oncoming blow. A split-second later, Link's opponent was coming from behind, and he delivered a blow to Link's back with the bottom of his boot. He fell with little grace, the air rushing out of his lungs, and it took every ounce of strength to roll onto his block and stop the hissing blade of his opponent with his own. His entire body ached with the force that it took to throw Swiftblade back, and even then, it took the experienced sparrer mere seconds to regain his balance. He danced forth again, delivering blow after blow, Link struggling- but still managing- to deflect.

 _I can't win a sparring match with pure defense,_ Link thought irritably, _but what else can I do? I haven't got enough time to strike, only enough to dodge-_

_-wait-_

_-to dodge…_

He backed away to the edge of the ring, and this time, when Swiftblade attempted to strike, Link rolled out of the way with hardly a second to spare; he evidently had not expected this move on Link's part. Dodging he might be used to, but Link had rolled around his opponent- a trick that Nohansen had taught him- and caught Swiftblade around the waist with an arm. He raised his blade just as Swiftblade twisted and raised his own; then they were caught like that, each with a blade to the other's throat and nowhere to move.

"We would both be dead," Swiftblade concluded, and held his sword in place for a little longer. Link did not falter either, only considered the truth of Swiftblade's words. And then the older man smiled, and Link knew that it was safe to pull away. He sheathed his sword, his opponent did the same, and from the platform above, Orca applauded.

"Why, Swiftblade… it appears you have met your match after all," the old man observed. He seemed stunned, as did Swiftblade.

"None have come close to besting me since I was young," the apprentice explained, the disbelief clear on his face. "You are good. How old are you?"

"Nineteen," Link replied, remembering that it was his birthday. _An apt gift, this match._

"Only? You seem older; it must be your discipline. Who was your teacher?"

 _Do I tell him?_ Link wondered, not wanting to bring up Hyrule if he did not have to. He could not see Swiftblade's ears beneath the sheet of pale hair; there was no telling whether this man considered Hyrule an enemy.

"A knight," Link finally admitted, figuring that was enough detail. The other's eyes widened.

"You were a squire?"

"Not exactly," Link explained, squirming suddenly. He had been too immersed in the duel to feel discomfort, but now the heat was getting to him, and these repeated questions were only increasing his sense of dread at being met with some hostility. "I'm sorry- I've appreciated this, but I really have to go."

"Wait- young swordsman- what is your name?"

But he didn't answer- he was already out the door.

* * *

The fisherman hosted them back for supper at his hut that night, a vat of fishy stew bubbling over the firepit in the center of the cozy room. He made light conversation as he stirred, moving his hand ever so gently so that their meal would not froth over the side of the pot. The sight of the old man at work procured images of the castle cook in Link's mind, and he wondered, as he often did, what life would be like today if he'd stayed behind.

 _Most likely the same as it always was,_ he knew, thinking of poor Niko, who probably would never be any more than a kitchen worker for all the days of his life. Or Salvatore, who had likely come to that realization long ago-no wonder he'd been so miserable.

"...and my daughter, she works at one of the stalls in town, selling a merchant's wares for poor salary. She deserves better."

"You have a daughter?" Manny asked, perking up.

"A beautiful one, just your age."

"...Go on," Manny suggested, and Link elbowed him irritably. _Manny and his stupid obsession with girls…_

"What keeps her tonight, I couldn't say. She usually is here for supper; she is a good, girl, well-behaved and-"

The door flew open. "FATHER! FATHER! You _MUST_ come outside! The bards are passing through town, they're playing in the square, the whole town is festive, it's just _delightful-_ oh- company?" the newcomer realized, coming to a sudden halt. She was a slim girl of about twenty, dressed in a simple shift of burgundy roughspun. Sandy hair fell like a curtain down her back, and her pretty eyes, silver in color, caught Link somewhat by surprise; she looked almost familiar…

"My dear," the fisherman said with a smile, "I was just telling these two young men about you! They are from out of town, and aided me greatly with today's delivery; I have invited them to dine with us out of gratitude."

Dinner seemed the last thing on the girl's mind.

"Oh, even better!" she exclaimed suddenly, expression lighting up like the sun. She lunged forward, grabbing Link's and Manny's hands and yanking them out of their chairs, hauling them towards the door. They burst into the town, and true enough, the sun was setting over the beginnings of a festive scene; musicians played, townspeople danced, and those who did not dance clapped along. There were lanterns strung from house to house that Link had not noticed earlier, and his heart swelled for a minute; it all felt so snug, so warm, and he remembered all of a sudden the earliest days of his childhood…

" _Come, darling," his mother had urged, twirling to the tune of the fiddles and pulling her husband onto the dance floor. He twirled her in the air, and she seemed light as a feather in his grasp. Then they both extended their hands to their son, who stood still as stone with shock on his face, not knowing how to respond…_

Link hadn't thought about his mother or father in a long time. He'd loved them both dearly when he was younger, but they'd sent him away when their town's harvest failed because they feared he'd starve if he stayed.

 _Go to Hyrule Town with Uncle,_ they'd urged him. _You'll be better-off there._

And so he'd ridden away on the back of a covered wagon, not yet seven years old, screaming and sobbing for his parents as they turned into no more than dots on the horizon. He'd had dreams of becoming a hunter like his father, and had worked since he was a toddler at mastering a bow, but those dreams melted suddenly away when his uncle found work in the castle; he as a groundskeeper, Link as a kitchen boy.

But Link's uncle had passed away, too, when a bad allergic reaction to some exotic plant had closed up his throat. Then Link had been all alone, with nobody to turn to, the looming shadow of stove smoke always hanging over him, the cook's relentless commands ringing in his ears even then. The world had become a dark place, for a time.

Then, by some miracle, a visiting lordling (no more than seven) came down to the kitchens one day to sneak some dessert. The cook caught him with one hand in the pudding, and that was the end of that; the lordling's father was called down, a scolding ensued, and the boy was dragged away. Link had seen it all happen from his spot in the corner polishing silverware, and noticed that the boy had left a picture book behind. Link claimed it when the others' backs were turned; later that night, in privacy, he flipped through the pages, eyes lighting up at the exquisite gilded manuscripts, illustrations of dragons and knights in shining armor seeming to leap from the page. The stories, told entirely in pictures, claimed his heart; greedily, he devoured more of them, and a bit of his sorrow washed away with every page…

Then, another miracle:

"...found him on the streets," a guard was saying, gripping a little eight-year-old street rat by the collar. The boy wore a sour expression, sort of like a troublemaking schoolboy met with a cross instructor, and he was covered in grime from head to toe. Even his hair was matted against his forehead with dirt. To say he wore rags was generous; scraps of foul-smelling fabric hung loosely about his shoulders, and surely did nothing to protect him against the elements.

"Wash him," the cook instructed to a nearby maid, "and give him an apron. We'll work him and feed him; it's better than he could ask for on the streets of Hyrule Town."

"I don't want to!" the ragged boy cried in aggravation. "You can't make me!"

The cook kneeled down in front of him. Link, eavesdropping from around the corner, peered in more closely. Cook didn't usually show any signs of tenderness, but here he was, eye-level with a street rat, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder…

"It's all going to be okay," the cook promised, though the boy still seemed unconvinced…

...Later, his curiosity peaked, Link glanced into the washroom. The new boy sat in the puny wooden bathtub by himself, and Link noticed (with a bit of a shock) that the boy's ribs protruded gruesomely from his torso, and his joints were bulbous and sharp. He was more of a skeleton than a boy, and Link realized that the boy's now-exposed skin was covered in freckles…

The boy glanced up suddenly. "What are you looking at?!" he snapped darkly. Link nearly wet his pants; he hadn't been expecting the boy to notice him.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'll just go." He started pacing away.

"No... wait," the boy's voice sounded behind him. Link stopped short, and then turned. When he returned to the doorway, he saw that the boy was staring at him again, but this time his gaze was earnest, humble, hopeful. "What's your name?" the boy asked. He almost seemed nervous.

"Link. You?"

The boy smiled, the freckles on his face spreading apart. "My name's Manny," he said…

…" _Come and dance! Dance with me!"_

The music was getting louder, the dancing faster, and the town became a whirlwind of colors and celebration as the girl pulled Link towards the center of the square. He didn't know where Manny had disappeared to-perhaps he had found some other pretty girl-but now this blond fisherman's daughter with the sharp gray eyes was pulling Link by the hands and urging him to spin her like his father had spun his mother once.

The memory burned like a fire in his mind, and now he said the same words that he'd said to his parents that night of the country festival.

"I don't know how."

"And _I_ shall not take 'no' for an answer!" She broke out into laughter. "Well, don't look at me like you don't remember… _kitchen boy!"_

And then it all came rushing back- a crowded ballroom-a young lady in a ruffled pink dress-Nohansen's voice, creeping as it always did in the back of his mind.

" _The knightly thing would have been to dance with her."_

"Lady Mila!" Link shouted suddenly, and his face went beet red. Time seemed to slow down around him, and he stilled, dropping to a bow instinctively. "My Lady, I apologize-I did not recognize you."

 _The fisherman,_ he realized suddenly. _That... was Lord Windfall?!_

"And why would you?" Mila returned easily. "I'm ragged, now, and poorer than you ever were. Yet _I_ recognized _you_ ; a girl never forgets the face of a knight, not even a knight-in-training…"

"What happened?" Link asked. He knew it was rude, yet he couldn't stop himself. "Last time we met, you were so rich, and dressed so finely, and…"

"And what? A little snob?" she joked. The festivities continued around them, yet now she, too, had stilled, and looked him straight in the eye. "Well, I suppose that is what happens to nobility when their kingdom falls to ruins. You flee your homeland and make do somewhere else, somewhere where enemies of the crown aren't bound to find you..."

Link's heart nearly stopped. "What?" he choked. "What do you mean? What about the royal family?"

And now _she_ appeared to be the one who was surprised, and her mouth formed a little 'o'.

"Do you mean to tell me… you don't know?" she said, a shakiness to her voice. Link could feel the hair on the back of his neck sticking up, and an eeriness came over him like a sudden chill.

"...Pardon?"

"Link, how long have you been away from Hyrule? The royal family doesn't exist anymore. It ended the same night that the tyrants killed Sir Nohansen. King Gustaf, Minister Potho, Princess Zelda… you really haven't heard?"

"Haven't heard what-?" Link started, and then stopped himself.

He didn't need to wait for the answer.

He already knew.


	9. Chapter 9

It was almost spiritual, the way that the dancing embers could reel Link in with such magnetism, grasping onto him greedily as he submerged into a trance. He'd been staring at the hearth in the fisherman's hut for an hour now, unfeeling—unseeing, even—perhaps he did not remember where he was, or he _did_ remember, and was trying to forget.

"Let him grieve," Manny said quietly. They had congregated when the dancing had finished; there had been words—gasps—and then they had returned with heavy hearts, and Link had collapsed under the weight of the news. Off to the side of the room, Manny and Mila, newly introduced, sat with the fisherman around a table and spoke softly. "Poor guy," Manny finished. "He loved Zelda."

"Even after all this time?" Mila asked, even more softly. Her eyes darted nervously in the direction of Link's slouched form, a silhouette against the ever-weakening flames. Silence ensued, a cricket chirping somewhere outside the window, which had been opened to let in the night air.

"You never forget your first love," the fisherman finally said with a low laugh. He took a sip of ale, almost contemplative. His eyes rested on his daughter, and it seemed that he was remembering her mother. "I know I certainly haven't."

"How did the princess die?" Manny finally asked. His voice sounded reluctant. "I saw Nohansen die, but I never imagined…"

"Sir Nohansen was poisoned—we all saw him fall," Mila said with a sigh. "The castle was evacuated, and for two weeks we stayed in the city awaiting news… but there was none. And then, suddenly, we woke up one morning, and there she was…"

Manny gasped prematurely, and then covered his mouth. Fingers slipping down his chin, he whispered, "Where was she?" His voice shook.

"She was gone," Mila uttered. "The body was burned behind castle walls, but we all saw the smoke. And in the middle of the city, where our fountain once stood, was erected a statue, newly sculpted, in the image of our beloved Princess Zelda… and inscribed into the base below her feet were the words, _In Memory: May her light force endure, and take new shape among those who loved her._

"Outraged, we all attempted entry—but the castle gates were guarded, not by our beloved soldiers, but by a cold and fear-inducing presence that caused all who neared the gates to turn their backs. It is a dark sorcery that keeps Hyrule Castle guarded… and the city that once surrounded it is deserted. Crownless, Hyrule fell to anarchy… from anarchy, to famine… from famine, to desperation… and from desperation comes war. It was barbaric, watching a once-civil kingdom reduce itself to ashes. The war trickled into the surrounding kingdoms, and Hyrule became a common enemy among many nations… that is why none trust us here—why my father must wear a hat, and I must keep my hair long…"

Mila paused to pull a strand of hair back, revealing a slender and pointed ear. "When Hyrule was intact, we were nobility, and praised with keeping the peace. But it was all for show—our money could do nothing to save the people who admired us, and we relinquished everything… my eyes were opened the day that we became refugees and left all of our worldly goods behind. There is nothing left in Hyrule… nothing but monsters and mayhem, and if there is a man on the throne then I promise you he is a tyrant, and presiding over a deserted land anyway. You are lucky, Manny, that you left when you did… lucky that you did not have to watch a land you called home fall apart in a matter of days."

Manny's next breath was a long one, and shook terribly. "I was never too fond of Hyrule Castle, I'll admit, but it…"

"Manny?" Mila said softly, and reached out, resting her fingertips softly on his freckled wrist. It seemed she could see the anger resonating from him.

"It was the first and only place I ever called home, I'll tell you that much," he finally admitted, and yanked his hand away with embarrassment. "It makes me sick to hear all that stuff, honestly. It was hard enough on Link losing Sir Nohansen, and now Princess Zelda, too…. She was really, really important to Link. What do we tell him?"

"I can hear everything you're saying," a deep voice imparted, and Link's chair gave a groan as he turned to face those seated at the fringes of the room. The young man's face was not washed with tears, nor was it white with shock; on the contrary, he appeared entirely calm, his long hair falling about a stern and settled countenance, the angled blue eyes contemplative. "Manny," he said directly, and caught his friend's eye. "I want to return to Hyrule."

"Have you lost your mind?!" Mila interjected. "If you heard what I just said, then you know that it is a lost cause. I regret to say it, but it is the truth. There is no hope for Hyrule."

"Yes, and there was a time when I thought I had no hope of knighthood either, or of surviving in the wilderness. But so far I've proven both theories wrong, so don't make a judgment for me. They called me a lost cause, too; I know one when I see one."

"Link, boy, my daughter is right… you'll get nothing from going back there," the fisherman mourned. "I know many who tried to fight, but from the very beginning they were knocking on death's door."

"Death is a better fate than cowardice," Link insisted, and got to his feet. Wordlessly, he made for the door, and the tension that had accompanied him seemed to be lifted for a brief moment, leaving enough room for that overwhelming sadness to come creeping back. When he'd shut the door behind him and broken into the chilled mountain air, he felt washed suddenly with relief, and the blood in his veins cooled.

He'd been perfectly all right until Mila had started protesting his thoughts. But he was rational, didn't she know that?! It wasn't like him to act purely out of passion… was it?

The door opened with a creak. "Hey, so…"

"Manny, you can't stop me."

" _Stop_ you?" Manny scoffed, letting the door click shut. "Link, I go where you go. I figured you'd want to go back as soon as I learned the news."

"Do you think it's worth it?" Link questioned. He didn't like that he was suddenly doubting himself. "I'm not being rash, am I? Mila and her father could be right, if Hyrule's a lost cause, then—"

"Do you hear yourself?!" Manny retorted hotly. "You're losing sight of what it is you've always dreamed of— _saving Hyrule_. What have I always told you, from the beginning?"

"Keep our heads up, because…" Link began.

Manny joined him, and they finished in unison, "It's all we've got, really."

"Whoever took over Hyrule killed Sir Nohansen and Princess Zelda to get what he wanted," Link finally grumbled. He walked as he spoke, stopping where the dirt path turned into a bluff and plunged downward. A rickety fence blocked off the drop, and Link rested a hand on a single post, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turned white beneath the moon's rays. "I can't let their deaths—or their lives—be in vain. They are the reason I ever learned to fight; now I can use those skills to avenge them!" he insisted, and kicked a rock into the chasm. It plummeted into the abyss, and though there was likely a river at the bottom, it was a world away, and there was no splash. The lack of resolution sent a chill up Link's spine, and he feared, briefly, the same fate concerning Hyrule. "I have to fix whatever went wrong."

"Now _that's_ more like it!" Manny finally said, slinging an arm around Link's shoulder. "Come on, then. Let's go back inside and get this sorted out."

Link complied. Within moments, they were back inside the fisherman's hut, the fireplace crackling at its heart. Mila's cat-like eyes met them from where she crouched beside the grate. Silently, she waited.

"We've made up our minds," Manny said. It was all the confirmation that the girl needed. She bit her lip and flinched oddly, as if the strings that had tethered her to hope, wisp-thin, had snapped.

"Say no more." She rose swiftly with her head still bowed, a movement of a character that was suspended somewhere between aristocratic grace and impoverished humility. When she did finally raise her dark silver eyes, they reflected the flames like smooth black stones and saw with a new understanding.

"Stay for the night, and let us provide for your journey."

"I can't accept that—" Link stammered.

"Please," she cut in. "If your intention is to save a land that _we_ should be responsible for, then it is the least we can do."

" _She's damn right,_ " Manny uttered, his voice so soft that only Link could hear.

"Thank you," he finally said, but even as Mila loaded loaves of bread and preserves and rice into his bag, he couldn't help but feel a void festering within him. He was fed generously, but did not feel full, and when he lay down to sleep, a great discomfort overtook him. Instead of the satisfaction of sleep, he saw only his last memory of Zelda—again and again and again, rain-drenched and beautiful, pale and slender as a lily on the balcony of her castle.

 _Did she foresee the end?_ he wondered. _Did she know she would die?_ It sickened him to imagine the means of her death, and yet he couldn't stop himself. He saw her choking on the same poison that had killed Nohansen, collapsing in a flurry of pink skirts to the ground, lungs stiff and still with a cold blood and heart. In his mind, he saw the fresh pool of terror in her deadened eyes and her lips parted with a gasp that had never escaped.

Sickened, he drifted somewhere between consciousness and this dreaded nightmare, giving up the prospect of sleep before day had broken. His feet were cold, the borrowed blanket too small, and his shoulders ached against the hard ground where he rested. He dressed lethargically, gathering his things and trying repeatedly to rub the sleep from his eyes. A stubble had formed on his chin and he scratched it irritably, wondering when—and if—he'd get a chance to shave, or if the days of meandering and taking life as it came were behind him.

The door squeaked as he opened and then shut it again, stepping out into the chilled mountain morning. A pale red scar spliced the horizon, the clouds seeming to crack apart as the bloody sun emerged and spilled its piercingly crimson light over the mountaintops.

 _The same sun shines on Hyrule,_ he found himself thinking. _But the red there is a different kind of red._

A cucco crowed somewhere, and then, in the distance, another. The echo flitted across the village—a call to action—and Link returned inside, where the residents of the hut stirred and awoke.

"Let's go," Link said. He was aware of the monotone in his voice. Manny was dragging himself towards consciousness, and Mila, from her bed in the corner, appeared to be doing the same. Through all of this, the old fisherman continued to snore, and Link moved quietly, not daring to awaken the generous host.

When they were dressed and ready to depart, Mila helped to load up their belongings. Link observed her work; she moved slowly and ponderously, and he got the feeling that she was deep in thought. She was tying Manny's bag shut when her hands suddenly stilled, and she glanced up.

"If you save Hyrule," she began quietly, "will you promise to write me, and let me know?"

Manny stared at her knowingly. "Only if you promise to come and see for yourself," he answered keenly. She bowed her head again.

"I can't. I don't deserve that. None of the nobles do. We were all failures, and should never step foot in the land we failed again, much less call ourselves noble once we're there. If you save Hyrule, then you will be the new nobility."

For the first time in years, the splendid array of shields forming an arch in the armory burst forth in Link's mind's eye. He saw the crest of the royal family again, the laurel of the Nohansen family, the marble arch of Mila's family… the rainbow spectrum wavered in front of him and then splintered into a thousand shards—he imagined the coats of arms falling in pieces at his feet; imagined, sickeningly, treading over them, listening to them crunch beneath the soles of his shoes, imagined, with a sort of fervor he knew he shouldn't entertain, nailing a new shield to the wall—his own, with a picture of a mop crossed with a sword—now, wouldn't that be funny?

When the vision dissipated, Mila was tightening a strap across Manny's chest, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the buckle.

"Our meeting was brief, but necessary," she observed. Her hands fell by her waist while Manny took his place by Link's side. "Good luck to both of you… may the goddesses watch over your journey." She bent her head and shoulders as she spoke.

Leaving the hut, Manny, outlined in pink by the rising sun, was silent. Finally, he turned to Link. "She bowed to us," he said. "It felt strange."

"Of course it did," Link replied. "Five years ago, we did the bowing."

"Five years ago?" Manny smirked. "Try a hundred."

"You think?"

"Feels like it."

When they reached the bridge connecting the village to the wilderness outside, Manny stopped. The fog-filled chasm yawned up at them, and Manny, with a sigh, leaned over the fence and peered down.

"I used to wonder what the top of the clouds looked like," Manny mused. "Now I know that the top looks just like the bottom. Kind of a shame, I guess, after all that buildup."

Link was already halfway across the bridge. "Are you going to stop to sniff the roses _all_ the way home?"

"You mean since there's a good chance some monsters are gonna find us and turn us into Hylian soup once we get there?" Manny scoffed. "You can bet I'm gonna sniff all the roses I can, even the wilted ones."

Link stilled, and then turned, suddenly feeling the sway of the bridge below him. "Do you really think that?"

"Think what?"

"About monster soup and all that… you don't think we'll be able to save Hyrule?"

"I don't think anything. Or know anything, except that I'll give it all I've got." He crossed the bridge to meet Link. The sun was still rising in the sliver of sky wedged between two adjacent mountains. When its rays mixed with the fog, the result was a swirling mist of pink and gold that gave way to a void as pale and silent as snow.

"You're wrong," Link decided after a long moment. "The top doesn't look the same, not when you look at it closely."

"Well, of course not. _Nothing's_ the same once you get to know it. Not even people."

Link smirked. "I don't know, Manny, you're pretty much the same person through and through."

Manny turned to face Link and spread his arms. They were about ten feet apart, on opposite halves of the bridge. Behind him, a line of sunlight had begun to split the slanting village into hemispheres.

"Come at me, Link. I may seem shallow and full of complaints, but there's more to me than that. I'm also wild about girls."

"What girls?" a woman's voice cut in.

He turned in shock. Mila had appeared from around the corner of a cottage, having apparently overheard Manny's declaration.

"Mila?"

"I'm coming with you," she announced. It was then that Link noticed the satchel across her back and the knife at her hip. Uncertainness crept over him.

"Are you sure?" he asked cautiously as she joined the young men on the bridge.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's dangerous, like you said. You seemed dead-set against it not even a day ago."

"Until I heard you speak. 'Death is a better fate than cowardice,' that's what you said," she recalled. "And… well, your words were true."

"And your father?"

"I left him a letter. He will understand."

"Something tells me that's not entirely true," Manny imparted, and Link was relieved to see that he, too, was uncomfortable with Mila's sudden decision.

"Mila," Link said, stepping forward, "you don't know the wilderness like we do. I'm sorry but…" he looked to Manny for reassurance, who just gave him a decisive frown and a nod. With a sigh, Link turned back to Mila. "I don't want to be responsible if you get hurt."

He reached for her, but she recoiled from his touch.

"I am responsible for my own fate, thank you very much." Her slender hands were curled into fists, and the silver in her eyes shone with equal ferocity. "Besides, as experienced as you claim to be, you're still a couple of kitchen boys. You don't have half the education that I do; I know history and geography and culture and half a dozen different languages." She paused. "And I'm a good cook."

"You've got yourself a deal," Manny said quickly.

"I'll take it that that last bit was the deciding factor…" the girl sighed.

Link pulled Manny aside. "Don't be rash—"

"Rash?" Manny snapped. "She's right—we're a couple of bimbos." He peered over his shoulder at Mila, who could obviously hear every word. " _Handsome_ bimbos," he added for her information, and then turned back to Link—"but bimbos all the same." He stretched out an arm to include Mila in the circle. She took a tentative step forward. "We left Hyrule before we really got to know it, but she's been traveling the kingdom since she was a little girl! Link, we need some brains in this operation, because what we've got between the two of us is just _not_ gonna cut it. All I'm really any good at is drawing pictures, and that only gets you so far in life." He turned back to Mila. "I _am_ pretty good at it, though. Just saying."

"I don't know, Manny, I just…" Link trailed off, and his eyes landed on Mila, whose expression was contorted with impatience.

"If it makes any difference to you, I'm going to Hyrule whether you let me join you or not," she insisted, "and I imagine I'll be much safer with two men at my side than all by myself."

Link swallowed heavily. "I…"

" _And_ ," she added, conjuring something from her satchel, "I know a shortcut." She unfolded a sheet of paper to reveal a map even more detailed than Manny's. Sure enough, a line depicting a tunnel suggested a straight shot through the mountains to the edge of Hyrule Field.

"Alright, alright," Link said, giving in. "You're right. We can use you. Mila—thank you. This is… very brave of you. But…"

"But what?"

"I just hope you're not doing this out of guilt," he admitted, "or because you feel responsible for what happened to Hyrule, because it wasn't your fault."

"If it wasn't the nobility's fault, then whose was it?" she countered.

"Nobody's fault. Evil is nobody's fault."

"Evil," she argued, "is always somebody's fault. People don't just become evil for no reason."

"Sometimes they do," Link said with a shrug. "Sometimes people are just… bad."

"We will see who is right," she finally said with a smirk, and shouldered past Link and Manny on the bridge. She'd pulled her long golden hair into a braid, and it swayed with each step. Link could sense Manny's breath hitch in his throat, and he knew without asking that his friend was thinking of another girl who had once worn her hair in a braid—violet hair, long and soft and shining…

Link shifted closer to his friend with a smirk.

"Quite pretty, isn't she?" he teased. Manny blushed red.

"That is _not_ why I wanted her to come with us," the freckled friend insisted.

"Yeah, it is."

"Is _not._ "

"It's part of it."

"A little bit."

Twenty feet ahead of them, the girl set her own trail.

"Twenty rupees says she's seen a lot more of the world than she's letting on," Link suggested. Manny smirked.

"You _wish_ you had twenty rupees."

"I will soon."

" _I_ don't have twenty rupees!" Manny laughed. "We'll be flat broke no matter who wins!"

"Maybe so. You know, I hear that if you look hard enough, you can find rupees in the undergrowth. In the grass, in the shrubs, in the flowers."

"Yeah, and by knocking into trees and cutting open monsters too, I bet," Manny deadpanned.

"Yes, that too… but mostly just by cutting down the grass."

"Very funny, kitchen boy."

"Likewise, kitchen boy."

"I consider myself more of a kitchen _man_ ," Manny quipped. He was grinning his characteristic grin. Years ago, that smile would have been a gateway to tomfoolery. Now, it was an invitation to something else—to sniff the roses, Link realized, and with the looming shadow of what lay ahead, he'd never been more happy to have Manny at his side.


	10. Chapter 10

_Travel log; 9 days since setting course for Hyrule. Supplies: adequate. Won't need to restock anytime soon. Mila led us through a cave—see map—a shortcut to Hyrule. Exited cave into forest at sunrise. Found some suspicious looking berries. See diagram. Identified by Mila as poisonous. Did not eat. Saw a finicky looking squirrel. See diagram. DID eat. All are healthy. Currently in densely forested area at base of mountain range. Again, see map._ _ Important _ _: Saw a_ _ very _ _strange bird. See diagram. Identified by Mila as tropical and not usually found in climates such as these. See map._

"Coloring again, Manny?" Link joked. "You know we've got a kingdom to save, don't you?" They had stopped to camp, and Link was kneeling and roasting remaining scraps of meat over a dwindling campfire. Manny, lying on his stomach and sketching in a journal some ten feet away, narrowed his eyes.

"It's a _travel log_ ," he replied haughtily. "I'm diagraming everything we see! Plants and animals and the like. For all you know, it'll come in handy someday when you find some berries and think to yourself, _gee, I wonder if these are poisonous?_ Then you can look back and _compare,_ instead of chowing them down and turning into a fat old poisonous berry yourself _._ " He turned to Mila, who was rolling out a sleeping mat a few paces away. "I diagramed that strange bird, too. As well as I could, I mean, because you said it was so weird."

Link thought back to that morning, when they'd come out of the cave to find themselves squinting against a cold, pale sunrise. The bare branches of the trees had been shivering under a glittering sheen of frost, but in spite of the chilly air, an ugly, bald-headed bird with an array of inky feathers had squawked down at them from a branch. It had seemed so out of place in that frozen but beautiful sky, and for a moment Link's mind had screeched to a definite halt—he felt like he'd seen a bird like that before—and then it had taken off in a bone-chilling display of jagged, misaligned feathers. Now, the memory of it still made his stomach turn.

"It _was_ weird," Mila confirmed. "Birds like that aren't supposed to exist in this climate. They would freeze their feathers off; to be this far north… well, it's against their natural instinct."

" _Exactly,"_ Manny said. "See, it's good that I'm diagraming this stuff! Putting these pencils to good use, am I not? Art will save the world! …Link? You've gone awfully quiet. What's eating you?"

The young man at the fire pulled the skewer out of the fire and blew softly on the charred meat. After a minute, he lowered his hands and stared into the fire while the meat cooled.

"That bird… the tropical one… I swear I've seen one just like it before."

"I feel the same way, oddly enough," Manny mused. "But where—" His eyes went wide, and he dropped his pen. "The courtyard!" he shouted suddenly. "Hyrule Castle Courtyard! When Nohansen and Zelda were practicing archery—that bird that swooped over the castle wall and aimed straight for the princess—and you shot it, remember? You snatched up that bow and shot it down!"

Link's jaw fell open. "I do remember!" he cried in reply. He could feel a giddiness welling up within him that was quickly replaced by an eerie feeling. "Even then, I remember Nohansen saying something about it being too far north—that it was a tropical bird, called a, a…"

"A kargaroc," Manny finished quietly. He was staring at the dirt as he spoke, an expression of disturbance having come across his face. He turned his eyes slowly towards Link. "I remember it now. It attacked Zelda, like it was preying on her. If you hadn't shot it down, you'd never have met Nohansen. Well, not really, I mean."

Link fell silent, and slowly, his eyes returned to the fire.

"Sorry," Manny said after a minute. "Maybe I shouldn't've…"

"It's fine," Link interrupted, his voice low.

"Are you talking about Sir Nohansen? The knight?" Mila cut in from across the camp.

"Yes."

"He was loved by all," she said softly. "In fact, I had almost forgotten you were his squire, Link."

"I wasn't his squire, don't get the wrong idea. He showed me how to use a sword, but I was still just a kitchen boy in the end."

"Don't lie, Link, he did more than that," Manny countered. "He was going to raise you to knighthood!"

"He wanted to. Doesn't mean he was going to." He poked the remains of the dying fire and watched a few sparks come shuddering free of the charred wood.

"You never know," Mila offered, but the remark was halfhearted. Link sighed.

"And I never will." He got to his feet with a groan and brushed the dirt from his trousers. "I think it's bedtime for us all. By tomorrow, we'll be back in Hyrule."

But even when he lay down, it took him a good while to fall asleep. The black bird's shadowy outline haunted his mind, and he couldn't help but wonder what it was doing so far away from home.

 _An omen?_ he wondered, unable to help himself. _Nohansen raised a cup to his own death…what if we, in our foolishness, are doing the same?_

With time, the fire died out and the company was left in darkness, although a flame of frightened anticipation still burned brightly in Link's mind.

* * *

 _"Lon Lon Ranch, 5 Miles,"_ Manny read aloud the next morning. A cloudy morning had dawned over a vast expanse of field, and the company was still only half-awake. "Isn't that where the kitchen got all its milk?" he asked after a second, and something lit up in Link's mind.

"I think you're right!" he announced. Something warm swelled up within him. "That must mean we're back in Hyrule." He could not suppress the wave of joy that then washed over him. He knew that this wasn't the Hyrule he knew, and yet he'd never expected to set foot here again. Just to be breathing the air again…

"We should go to the Ranch," Mila cut in. "Maybe they will be willing to provide for our journey."

Manny smiled. "A valid point, Lady Mila." The girl snorted.

"If I'm a lady, then you and Link might as well be viscounts."

"I reckon we'd make quite excellent viscounts," Manny announced with a grin. There were stars in his eyes. "In fact, maybe when we save Hyrule…"

They came upon the ranch at noon. A stone wall blocked off the ranch from the rest of the field, its grassy pastures seeming to roll out over the rippling hills, so pale and green. A pristine white barn was perched atop the nearest hill, a weathervane shaped like a cucco squatting proudly upon the roof.

"You wouldn't think this country was haunted," Manny said, approaching a place where the wall gave way to a wooden gate and resting his hand on the latch. The gate was painted red and white, and the words _Beware of Cuccos_ were painted in a dainty hand across the front.

"Cute," Mila murmured. But when Manny went to nudge the gate open, it fell clean off of its hinges, and Link noticed a shiny padlock on the gate that appeared to have been broken off. A chill ran down his spine.

"Somebody forced it open," he realized. The world seemed to darken around him, and his next steps into the ranch were gingerly taken, as if there might be mines planted somewhere in the soil. Manny and Mila crept quietly behind him along the dirt path that snaked through the hills, coming to a halt at the barn. It was eerily silent.

"It's so quiet," Link said after a long moment. He had one hand resting on the door of the barn.

"That's because there are no animals," Manny replied. "This place is abandoned... or..."

"Let's just check for provisions," Mila cut in, all business as usual. "Go on, Link."

He swallowed heavily, then swung the door wide. The inside of the barn was dark and musty. Only a few shafts of sunlight permeated the rafters, currents of dust swirling in the beams.

He took one step forward, the hay-strewn floor creaking beneath him, then another.

Another.

Another-

 _"MMMMMPPPPHHHH!"_  
  
He drew his sword on instinct, blood running cold.

"Who's there?!" he called out, trying to suppress the waver in his voice.

"Ghosts," Manny whispered into the dusty air.

"No..." Link argued as the muffled weeping grew louder. He followed it to a stall at the end of the barn and forced it open. The sight that met his eyes unnerved him.

A rotting horse lay slaughtered on its side, smelling foul as it decomposed. The slaughter had been recent; its blood was still drying on the hay. Behind the horse, a dirty, blood-soaked girl was bound and gagged, seeming to put all of her energy into shrieking. When she saw Link, her dark eyes widened in shock, and she quieted.

 _She was expecting someone else,_ he realized. _The monster who did this to her..._  
  
He was at her side immediately, cutting her free of her bindings. When the gag came loose, she tried to speak-but couldn't. She coughed and coughed, then swooned. Link caught her as she fell, and she weighed nothing in his arms.

"W-water..." she begged with a trembling breath. "Please..."

Link gestured to Manny for the canteen. When he gave it to the girl, she drank weakly, but greedily. She dropped it when she was finished and wrapped her arms around Link's neck for support.

"You have... to leave..." she implored between heaving breaths. "They'll... be back..."

"What's she saying?" Mila asked.

"Whoever did this to her isn't finished," Link answered. "They're coming back for more."

"Then let's get out of here," Manny said. "Quickly!"

"Not without her."

Mila gulped. "Of course not," she said softly, and drew a knife. Its edge glimmered in the faint light. Link watched as she paced carefully past the stalls. In the ones that were open, he could see the shadowy outline of all the other slaughtered horses. His stomach churned, and he turned back to the girl.

"We're going to rescue you."

She started to protest. "My- my father..."

"There are others?!" Link realized with horror. That changed things rather drastically. "Where?"

"Don't know..."

He turned to Manny. "Look around. Find her father, and any other survivors. Be quick, we haven't got loads of time."

To the girl, he said, "Let's go." He slipped his arms around her and hoisted her up, bridal-style. She felt as fragile as paper, and her head fell softly against his chest. _Red hair,_ he realized. _I didn't notice with all the blood..._  
  
An earthshaking screech sounded outdoors-a screech that shook Link's very bones. The girl began to cry.

"They're back! They're back!" she wheezed, and Link dashed out of the barn to the hills, coming to a halt under the sky-it was darkening, storm clouds raging above him like ocean waters and blotting out all the light. The girl in his arms began to wail.

"Oh, gods! We're doomed..."

That was when the sky seemed to rip open, an inky shadow spilling across the grass. Link turned his eyes to the sky in horror just in time to see—a dragon?!—no—no, it was a bird…

 _A bird the size of a dragon._ It looked eerily like the one he had seen this morning, but this one could have crushed the barn and everything inside with one effortless blow. The creature came crashing to the earth as the winds swirled about it, its massive feathers waving like flags in the current of air. It screeched again with wide, crimson marbles for eyes while a web of lightning lit up the atmosphere. The world continued to darken.

"STAY BACK!" Link heard Manny yell, and he turned just in time to see his friend brandishing a knife. The frail girl was still wailing in Link's arms, and he turned to her.

"Don't worry," he said, more to himself than to her, and then set her down gently against the barn. She whimpered as he let her go. "I'll come back—I'll come back, I promise!"

"You'll die," she wailed. "You'll die, you'll die…"

The desperation in her voice haunted him, but he had no choice. He reached for his bow and nocked an arrow, approaching the beast.

 _It's no different than when I shot down the bird in Zelda's courtyard,_ he told himself. He could remember the moment clear as day—it all had seemed so simple then, so instinctual, like time had slowed down and all that mattered was saving the girl, saving the girl, saving the girl…

He turned back to the red-headed girl once more. Her head lolled against her shoulder. Beneath the blood, her pale skin shone like a lily. She was slender, and might have been quite lovely, once…

_Do it for her._

He took one more shaking step forward and planted his feet. There was another flash of lightning as he drew his bow, and concentrated. _Aim for the weak spot._ The red eye was a gleaming planet in the light of the raging skies. _Concentrate, concentrate._

The eye blinked.

He released his arrow.

_SQUAAAAAAAWK!_

The creature reacted furiously, flapping its wings and stumbling about as Link dashed closer. He could feel Manny and Mila's heat at his heels.

"Link!" Mila cried. "Link, do you see her?!"

"See who?!" Link replied over the growing tempest.

"The rider! The rider!"

That was when he saw a silhouette atop the monster's back. He'd been so focused on the eye that he'd totally neglected the rider…

He shot another arrow, then another. Neither one found its mark, and as the beast came charging closer, his concentration dissipated like smoke. What was left was a frantic jolting of the bones that was begging him to flee.

No. _No!_

He nocked another arrow—drew—released— _missed._ He reached for another arrow—and found himself out. Panicking, he drew his sword, knowing it was no good, no good at all, but he had to try anyway.

The bird's shadow fell over him as it lunged. He dodged, but only barely, catching the creature in the side. It wailed in outrage, but it was more provoked to anger than it was seriously wounded, and rounded on Link again. He dodged again, remembering his spar with Swiftblade— _if only I had been more dedicated to my practice,_ he lamented, and swung his sword again. It found its mark, piercing the belly of the creature, but the blade was too dull and the wound was not fatal.

Now, the creature was angrier than ever.

 _I have not lost yet,_ Link told himself. _I can still defeat this creature!_

The bird screeched again, and Link saw that Manny had caught it in the belly with two small knives. Link's eyes widened as the furious monster beat Manny to the side with a wing, and he went catapulting through the air, landing in a heap on the ground. Horror washed through Link's body, and he heard Mila crying out as she dashed to Manny's side.

_I have not lost yet. I have not lost yet._

The horror turned to anger—he shouted—lunged—

_SQUAAAAWK!_

A deep red gash appeared in the winged beast's side. Plump red droplets drenched the earth below the wound, but it was not enough to fell the creature. It began flapping its wings frantically, which created gusts of air so powerful that Link stumbled and fell onto his back. The creature loomed over him, a silhouette against the lightning—he rolled to the side just in time for the creature's talons to pierce the earth. It rounded on him and knocked the sword from his hand, the crimson eye glistening. The gaze ran straight through him like a spear, and for the first time, he felt true, unadulterated fury.

_I will not let Nohansen's death be in vain._

Just as he thought those words, a dazzling ray of golden light shattered the clouds like glass, giving way to a blazing blue sky. The bird backed away in terror as a glittering vapor swirled down from the clouds, forming a ring around Link's hand. Within a split second, it had solidified into a magnificent blade, sharp as anything, perfectly suited to Link's stature. He felt as if he'd been born brandishing it.

A wave of confidence seared through him and compelled him to lunge forward with a shout, never questioning where the sword had come from, never stopping to marvel at it, only wielding it with such fury and precision that in seconds he had sliced the bird open from its beak to its tail, and it collapsed to the earth in a flurry of stinking, foul feathers.

" _NO!"_ the rider screeched, backing away from her twisted steed. In the radiant light of day, Link could see that the rider, although masked, had the figure of a woman. Her voice was shrill and panicked. " _This is impossible! It cannot be you—it cannot be you—THE HERO OF MEN IS DEAD!"_

On instinct, Link dashed for her, but she vanished on the spot. His hand closed around violet smoke, and his emotions all melted together. Confusion, anger, fright—and then he remembered—

"MANNY!" he started to run, but a gust of wind constrained him, and he fell back to the earth.

"Your friend will be just fine, Hero of Men. He is not as wounded as you fear."

Link whipped his head about frantically. "Who said that?!" The voice appeared to have come from thin air.

"We are the Picori, sometimes called the Minish, the tenants of the gardens, Farore's chosen guardians…"

Link was confused. "The who?"

"…we bloom like flowers but live like men, are magical as warlocks, miniscule as thimbles— _ow!"_

"Enough of this gibberish, I can't take it! Hey, you! Look down, you twat!"

"Huh?" Link glanced down, then shrieked as a patch of clovers shifted to reveal two humanoid creatures who could have fit in the palm of his hand. One of the creatures, spry and violet-haired, was rubbing his scalp, apparently having been bonked atop the head by his old, bearded companion, who was carrying a cane. The elderly creature stepped forward, his clover falling away, which he'd previously been holding like an umbrella.

"Hero of Men," he said, "allow me to explain—we are of the Picori, a mythical race that hail from the forests, yadda yadda, yes, you heard that correctly, mythical. I am their a craftsman, called Ezlo, and I come bearing a very important message. …Oh, and this is my airheaded apprentice, Vaati. Say hello, Vaati."

The violet-haired Picori bowed low. "It is a deep honor, Hero of Men. I have long awaited this day— _OW!"_ he cried as he was smacked yet again. _"Would you stop doing that?!"_

"We don't have time for your schmoozing, Vaati! The Hero of Men is on a very important quest, and we cannot hold him up!"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Link asked.

"I'm getting to that, if you could just be patient! Ahem. You see that sword in your hand?"

Link had nearly forgotten about it. Returning his attentions to the weapon, he allowed himself to admire it. Besides boasting a fiercely sharp blade, its pommel was exquisite, an ornate interlocking of deep violets and blues with silver scrollwork. The base of the blade was inlaid with precious gems and carvings in a language he could not read.

"What about it?" he finally breathed, still in awe of its beauty.

"I made it."

Link snorted. He couldn't help himself. _"You?!"_

"Yes!" the man replied, taken aback. "Me!"

Link could feel his face turn red. "I didn't mean… I'm sorry. It's beautiful."

"It's more than just beautiful," Ezlo explained. "It's imbued with a magic called _light force._ Have you heard of it?"

It seemed to ring a bell. He racked his brains…

It was Mila's voice that spoke up from surprisingly close-by.

"Those words were written on Princess Zelda's memorial. _May her light force endure, and take new shape among those who loved her."_ At Mila's side, Manny stood hunched over and bruised, but very much alive otherwise. Relief flooded through Link's veins, but it was quickly replaced by a lurking fear.

"Mila," he said, "go see if that red-haired girl is alright, and help her find her family. Please," he added as an afterthought.

"Of course," she answered swiftly, no questions asked. _She knows better._ When she began dragging Manny with her, he protested.

"I want to see—"

"Come along, Manny. Hey! With me." The pair sauntered off arm-in-arm, and Link returned his attentions to the tiny newcomers. Instinctively, he reached out a palm and lifted up the elder and his apprentice to eye-level. Up close, they appeared even more alien. The sight was a little unnerving.

"Light force," Ezlo explained, "is the reason that magic exists in this world. You cannot wield magic without light force, and the more you have, the stronger you are. And sometimes, the loonier. Regardless, it is... desired. Highly desired, especially by those who would abuse it."

Link glanced at the sword again. "And this sword..."

"This blade is sacred," Ezlo continued. "It has power that most will never dream of, and none are worthy of wielding. None… except for you."

"I don't understand," Link argued. "Why me?"

"Why not you?" Ezlo shrugged. "Heroes come and go, but they rarely look how we expect. That seems to be everyone's mistake nowadays."

"What does that mean?"

"Look at me! I've said too much!" Ezlo realized. "How imprudent." He took a step forward. "I cannot tell you everything that lies in store, Hero of Men. I can only tell you what I know."

"And what's that?"

It was the apprentice who spoke up. "There is a Picori prophecy, one that has existed for centuries, that a red eye will open in a black night and sit on Hyrule's throne, ruling the kingdom with a vengeance like no other, until the greatest soldier in all of Hyrule takes up arms against him—and this soldier will be called the Hero of Men, and on his brow will rest the laurel of House Nohansen."

Spoken aloud, Nohansen's name sounded like a war horn, a call to action. It stirred something within Link's core.

"But she—the woman in the mask—said that the Hero of Men is dead."

"Or the one she _thought_ to be the Hero of Men is dead," Ezlo corrected.

"But who would she think was…" Link began, trailing off.

"You already know," Ezlo replied. The realization struck Link like a hammer.

"Sir Nohansen," he realized, bowing his head. "She must've heard the prophecy and thought it was talking about Nohansen—the laurel, of course—that's why he was killed, that's why…"

 _A red eye will open in a black night,_ Link remembered, and the eerie coat of arms that had always frightened him in the armory. It brushed the dust off of another old memory—of nighttime whispers in an infirmary, so many years ago…

"That girl in the mask," Link said. "She was behind Nohansen's murder—she thought she could stop the prophecy from happening."

"It only makes sense, I'm afraid," Ezlo said quietly. Even he seemed to sense Link's mourning. "All the while she was plotting to kill Sir Nohansen, the true Hero of Men was right beneath her nose… We have long suspected you, Hero, even before Sir Nohansen was laid to rest. And we have been following you, to bring you aid when the time came for you to understand your destiny."

"And you're saying the Hero of Men, that's me. That's my destiny. To save Hyrule."

"To _fight_ for Hyrule," Ezlo corrected. "The prophecies never specify who wins. That would make history horribly boring, as you can imagine."

Link felt suddenly numb, and he let Ezlo and Vaati down with a shaking hand. "I see," he stated, swallowing heavily. It was like one of his childhood dreams, except now that it was actually happening, it felt surreal and made him slightly sick to his stomach. _Why me?_ he had to wonder again. _I'm just a kitchen boy…_

"But how can you be sure?" he asked for what felt like the umpteenth time. "I'm not _of_ House Nohansen. I don't wear his laurel on my-oh," he realized, reaching up to the spot on his headband where Manny had, somewhat crudely, stitched Nohansen's symbol. He quieted.

"The Picori have eyes and ears in every garden, and have long suspected you," Vaati spoke up, "but we were not certain, not until the day you decided to return to Hyrule and save it... that is valor of a different nature. And the blade in your hand-it _chose_ you. _That_ is how we are sure."

Link gulped. "I'll put it to good use."

"I'm certain of it," the elder said, "but just for extra guidance, I'm sending noodle-brain here with you. Go along, Vaati. Off you trot!"

The slender, violet-haired Picori stepped forward. "If it pleases you, of course, Hero."

Link reached down for the elder's apprentice quizzically and held him up to eye level. The face was so smooth and jovial, unmarred by time or experience.

"It'll be hard," Link said, simple as that.

"You're telling me? I have been waiting many years for this," the apprentice repeated. "If you do not take me with you, then I shall have to latch onto the laces of your boots and not let go."

"In that case… well, I don't see why not." Link placed the little creature on his shoulder. "Comfortable?"

"Most comfortable, Hero."

"You should return to those other fools," Ezlo said after a minute.

"Fools? They're my friends!"

"Why not both?" replied Ezlo offhandedly. He picked up his clover and propped it above his head once more. "Well, the rest of us should be going."

Link's brow furrowed. "The… the rest of you?"

A large patch of clovers shifted to reveal a huddle of at least a dozen other Picori. Link suppressed a gasp. "No wonder I never noticed you following behind," was all he could manage to get out. Ezlo gave a light chuckle.

"We will meet again soon, Hero of Men," Ezlo said, and with a rustle of clovers, he and the rest of his people seemed to vanish into the earth.

The fields became quiet again, the great black feathers of the bird carcass trembling slightly in the wind. Glancing at the sword in his hand again, Link couldn't help but wonder whether he deserved it. Nohansen's spirit seemed oddly present then, as if it were woven in with the wind, and he bowed his head in reverence.

 _This is all so much to take in,_ he thought, _and yet, if Nohansen were here, he would tell me to accept the responsibility I have been given-to harness it-to make him proud._

For a long moment, the aching world was quiet and still around him.

He stood to face it.


	11. Chapter 11

Mila found Link slightly white-faced in the middle of the field.

"You'll want to see this," she urged, panting slightly, and led him to a large cottage a hundred yards away. It might've been homey enough at one point, with large wooden beams supporting the thatched roof and wide latticed windows to let in the daylight, but now it was destroyed—furniture was overturned, glass shattered, garbage strewn about. The place had been utterly destroyed.

They found Manny comforting the red-haired girl on the second story. Across the room, a middle-aged man and woman lay side-by-side, dead. They appeared to have both been stabbed, and their hands were clasped tight—they had died together; it was a sickening sight.

Vaati peeked out from behind Link's collar, where he had taken up residence, and covered his mouth in shock. Silently, he re-retreated beneath the fabric.

"Gods…" Link breathed. Ezlo's words about heroism immediately lost their luster as Link took a step towards the bodies. "What happened?"

The red-haired girl was too weak to sob outright.

"The w-woman on the bird and her monsters came for the horses," she said weakly. "They demanded we hand them over—for their armies to use—as _laborers._ " She was gasping for breath, choking on silent sobs. "My m-mother and father refused… the monsters said they'd be back, and th-this time, they'd steal them… so we killed th-the horses. All of them. To spare them the misery of being w-worked to death."

Link's jaw fell open. " _You_ killed the horses?" He had assumed it was the beasts.

"The m-monsters—they were furious. When they saw what we had done, they sep-separated us—tied me up in the barn and said we had better p-pay with rupees or-or with our lives—" She broke down again in Manny's arms. The freckled boy looked up helplessly. Beside him, Mila stood still as stone.

"You have been greatly wronged," Mila said. "I assure you, the beasts will pay for what they have done to your parents."

The girl looked up incredulously, her dark blue eyes tainted crimson with tears of outrage. "Do you know nothing?! None can stop them. It is worse every day!"

"I will stop them," Link promised.

"You?! All the soldiers in Hyrule are d-dead or have fled! What makes you any different?!"

"I killed the bird."

"One beast of a thousand," the girl lamented, "and nine hundred ninety-nine left to go. Forgive me if I don't believe in heroes… nobody does, except for little girls and boys. And I'm not a little girl. Not anymore."

Link stepped forward and kneeled in front of her. She couldn't be more than twenty, and beneath the crust of blood coating her face and matting down her clothes and hair, she was beautiful. There was no denying that.

"You haven't even told me your name," he said after a while.

"Malon," she answered quietly.

"Come with us, Malon," he said. "There's still time; I can still save you."

She shook her head. "I'm dead. I promise you, I'm dead."

"You're not."

"I _am._ Look." She unbuttoned the front of her dress to reveal a deep gash across her stomach. The wound had begun to fester; Link resisted the urge to look away.

"Let me see what we have for potions," he said desperately, and reached for Mila's bag a few paces away. Digging through it, he relayed its contents: "I have a vial of red potion and everything I need to clean the wound. Come lie on the bed, I can try to treat you—"

"No," Malon said again.

" _Please_ ," Link insisted, looking up from the bag. "C'mon, I promise—I promise you I can save you." His voice cracked, and he felt his confidence falter.

"I'm not worth the effort," the girl protested. She sank further into Manny's arms. "Hold onto your potion. You need it more than I do."

"No." Link shook his head. "No, absolutely not. You're going to live. Lay her down, Manny. Mila, let's clean this wound. …Mila?"

"A word, Link?" Mila said. Link sighed and glanced at Manny. "Make her comfortable. I'm coming right back."

In the hallway, Mila bowed her head. "Malon's right, Link. We're better off saving our supplies. Even if we treat her, there's no guarantee…"

"I want to save her," Link insisted. He was beginning to panic. "Today, I was told I'm supposed to be a hero. How can I save a kingdom if I can't even save one person?!"

The blond girl seemed heartbroken. Tears came trickling from her silver eyes. "Link… don't be a fool. She won't survive the night."

"I'm going to save her," Link insisted. "I _am._ "

"Link," the little Picori on his shoulder spoke up, peeking out from the hat. Mila's eyes widened.

"Who—"

"I'll explain later. What, Vaati?"

"Sometimes, being a hero means making sacrifices."

"I'm not sacrificing an innocent girl," Link insisted. He returned his attentions to Mila. "Let me use the potion and the bandages. I'll do it all myself."

Mila swallowed nervously and hung her head. "I…"

"Mila. _Please._ C'mon." He grabbed her hand, but she didn't look up. "We _have_ to. Supplies are replaceable. She's not."

Finally, Mila nodded. "You're right, of course. Very well—we'll give it our best effort." Slowly, the girl followed Link back into the room. Manny had moved Malon's weak frame onto the bed and was sitting beside her. He stood when Link appeared.

"She's asleep, but breathing," Manny said. Link sat beside the girl and examined the wound in her stomach again. It ran deep and was gushing with pus—a horrible sight. His hands fumbled for the potions and bandages, but shook as he did so. He took a few deep breaths.

"Alright. We can do this," he assured the group—and himself.

…

When the wound was treated with red potion and dressed, Link collapsed onto the floor and leaned back against the bed. Malon's snores were faint and uneven; every now and then her breath would snag on the air and stop, momentarily, in a horrible, crushing silence, and Link would fear the worst—and then it would start up again, and he would realize how tense he'd become, and relax as much as he could.

Evening had fallen again, and Vaati was snoozing on Link's shoulder, his short, small wisps of breath streaming against Link's chin. He set the little creature down on a fallen pillow, noticing that he was was practically weightless, and wondering whether he might glance over at any moment to find him gone, no more than some hallucination he'd conjured up—Vaati, Ezlo, the Picori Blade—all of it.

"Like one of your childhood fantasies," Manny said when Link relayed everything that had happened between him and the Picori. The pair had retreated into the main room of the cottage when Mila fell asleep on the bed beside Malon. Out here, they could speak a little more freely without fear of waking anybody.

"You think?" Link replied.

"Sure. These little creatures say you'll be called a hero—isn't that what you always wanted?"  
"Of course," Link said hollowly. "Of course I did. I just didn't think that it would be so…" He fell quiet.

"Scary?" Manny offered.

"Yeah. That." He paused. "It's probably not all real, anyway," he finally said. "It's probably some big ruse. Fake."

"What, like that sword?" Manny joked.

Link returned his attentions to the blade at his hip. "Sure," he said weakly. Exhaustion was getting the better of him, but he couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that monstrous bird—its cruel, keen gaze and razor-sharp talons. And the bodies, too—Malon's parents…

A sense of unease flooded Link's insides. He wondered whether he would be sick.

Manny's mind was somewhere similar. "That bird today…" he began.

"You're thinking of it too?"

"Can't get it out of my head," he answered honestly, and gritted his teeth. "Link, I… I was filling out my travel log, writing about the bird, when I remembered something. I noticed it earlier, but forgot about it when we found Malon's parents—Link, I don't know if you noticed, but the rider… it was a woman."  
"I noticed."

"With braided hair."

"Okay," Link replied uncertainly. "I didn't see her hair."

"Link… she had _violet_ hair."

_Oh._

Sue-Belle.

"I'm sure it wasn't…" Link began, but trailed off.

"What if it _was_ her, though?" Manny collapsed into a kitchen chair and his head fell into his long hands. Illuminated by only a ray of moonlight through the window, he was no more than a spindly silhouette, bowed and silent like a tree in a graveyard. A grandfather clock ticked behind him, sonorous and heavy in the deepening silence.

"It can't be. Sue-Belle was so quiet—so kind—"

"—But so damned suspicious," Manny cut in. "Remember the last time we saw her? In the armory?"

It had been five years, yet Link still did remember. There was no denying that their final encounter with Zelda's pretty chambermaid had raised more questions than it answered. Privately, too, he recalled overhearing a conversation between Sue-Belle and her grandfather—about a brother with a hidden agenda—about family secrets…

He'd never told Manny what he'd overheard in the armory for fear of upsetting him. Manny had adored the girl—even now, he spoke of her from time to time. Link had flirted with the serving girls from time to time, but Manny had doted on the same one for so long, had cherished the thought of her, had intended to court her someday…

 _Of course he still thinks of her,_ Link realized. _I still think of Zelda, after all._

He didn't speak after that.

…

They arrived at Hyrule Castle to find it exactly as he remembered it. Whatever they had heard had been rumors. Hyrule was at peace—there were no monsters! Gustaf feasted merrily while Potho fussed over the state of the silverware. Princess Zelda beckoned Link to the table and offered him a sip from her goblet. He drained its contents merrily, catching a glimpse of his own smiling face in the bottom of the cup—his raven-black hair and straight white teeth—but the moment he, Nohansen, lowered the goblet, he saw Sue-Belle where Zelda had been mere moments ago, a devious glint in her eyes. Suddenly, his innards were alight with a terrible illness—then all went numb, and he collapsed—

And then Manny was shaking him awake. Bleak morning light leaked through the windows—since when? Link didn't even remember falling asleep.

"Link? Wake up. Bad news. I'm really sorry. Malon didn't make it."

Link stumbled to his feet. "What?" He felt as if he'd been slapped. _No…_

He rushed ahead of Manny and crashed into the bedroom. Mila sat weeping at the farm girl's side, clutching her pale, dead hand as if enough force might bring her back to life. "She's joined her parents," Mila said weakly, and bowed her head. Behind her, Vaati stared forlornly from his perch on the dresser.

Link wanted to say he was surprised, but that would have been untrue. His bitterness burned slowly away and left him feeling numb. When a long moment of silence was behind them, Link brushed hurriedly past Manny towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

He could feel tears condensing hotly on his lashes. "To find a spade."

…

_Nohansen._

His shovel broke the earth for the first time.

_Gustaf._

And the second.

_Potho._

He dug again.

_Zelda._

And again.

_Malon._

And again.

_Her parents._

And again.

 _Nohansen._ Dig. _Gustaf._ Dig. _Potho._ Dig. _Zelda._ Dig. _Malon._ Dig. _Her parents._ Dig. _Nohansen._ Dig. _Gustaf. Potho. Zelda. Malon. Her parents. Nohansen. Gustaf. Potho. Zelda. Malon. Her parents…_

How many more would have to be lost before Link could confront the force behind it? _Nohansen._

How many more deaths that he couldn't prevent?

_Gustaf._

How many had already died that he didn't yet know of?  
 _Potho._

How many dead would never be buried?  
 _Zelda._

Would Manny or Mila eventually be among them?

_Malon._

What about Link himself?

…

By the time Link finished making the grave, it was high noon. Sweat boiled on his back, as he'd long ago discarded his tunic in the hot sun. Finding only one shovel, he'd chosen to do the task alone while Manny and Mila washed the dead bodies and wrapped them in linen sheets. They carried them out and laid them in the earth one-by-one while Vaati watched wordlessly. Mila led a prayer. The bodies were covered again with earth, and Link marked the spot with a heavy white stone he'd found some hundred yards off and had Manny haul over in a wheelbarrow.

Kneeling over the grave, Link pressed his palm into the dry soil. _I'm sorry I arrived too late._ His hand left a deep print when he returned to his feet.

"We should go," Mila said quietly. "There's nothing more we can do for them."

Link knew that she was right, yet remained deeply unsatisfied. He couldn't put words to what he was feeling, and could only describe it as the odd sensation that as he left the ranch, a fragment of him was left behind, dead and buried like the innocents he couldn't save.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A fic that started as a bit of a joke, as I, too, am a kitchen worker.


End file.
